Abyss
by Blackpoetcat
Summary: Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Abyss  
**Author:** Blackpoetcat  
**Rating:** G  
**Character:** Derek Wills  
**Disclaimer:** NBC owns all, just playing drama with  
**Summary:** Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?  
**Thanks to: **my favourite beta-bird

_Bloody hell!_

Derek cursed silently and held his head in both hands. Being thrown into the devil's lair couldn't be worse than the insufferable throbbing pain he felt the moment he woke up. That and the foul taste in his mouth suggested there was only one possible explanation for why he was enduring the most miserable morning since his eighteenth birthday. And that would also explain the giant black hole in his memory when he tried in vain to remember how much he had drunk last night …

_Derek Wills, you bloody fool!_

He attempted to get out of the bed but instantly sank back into his sheets with a groan. If only he could just lie here, perhaps sleep a few hours more! But according to the hotel room's alarm clock, he had less than forty minutes until today's rehearsal. Derek cursed again, and then fought his hangover; somehow made it to the bathroom without tripping or bumping into any furniture. He rummaged through his things, finally found the box of aspirin, dissolved three of the tablets in a glass of water and downed the mixture in one gulp before he entered the shower.

###

Of course the cast had to suffer from his lingering headache. He knew it, but he didn't care. Why should he? This was what everyone had plunged into for success; he himself was famous for his straight if somewhat rude methods to achieve what he wanted and the results always proved him right.

He ignored Karen's uneasy looks at him as well as the muttering about Ivy's condition which the team discussed with Julia and Tom every time they got a break of ten and probably during lunch time. Not that he didn't hear what they spoke; quite the contrary.

Everyone had been in the hospital at least once since her overdose four nights ago – except Derek Wills. He never talked about her, interrupted everyone who did so in his presence, and when Tom yelled at him that he was worse than the Dark Lord his reputation was named after, he only shrugged and turned his back to him. Well, not before answering loud enough for all to hear...

"She was too ambitious for her own good; now she has to live with the aftermath! Besides – this is far better than if she had died, because now she can learn and _do better in the future! So stop this once and for all and concentrate on the show!_"

Unnecessary to mention that no one dared to speak to him at all for the rest of the day, except it was inevitable. Even Karen avoided him as much as possible, though she seemed somewhat uncertain about it. Luckily, the first preview's raving success had given her the self-confidence to perform the same way every night, despite seeming uneasy about Ivy. Derek wondered if she would stay stable enough when they left Boston - and Ivy - behind in a few days. In her first night as Marilyn, she needed his encouragement so badly; he continuously waited for the next time she would break down without it. But he felt absolutely unable to show her his supporting, soft side again.

Maybe somewhere in the future, when he had come to terms with himself - and with what made him drink so much he didn't remember the better part of last night. He loathed himself for that fucking weakness; for searching for anything to distract his thoughts from...

No, not again! He had to bury any emotions entwined with it, now and for good! He needed to remind himself of who he was and who he had to be, for the show to become the greatest success ever.

Derek's thoughts wandered to Eileen. She was already back in New York, planning and booking other theatres along the east coast for further previews. She took care of the Ivy situation too, and would continue to do so – because she could afford it, above all in none-material significance. Of course he was quite capable of doing the same, not that he was willing to reveal that to the world, especially the world of 'Bombshell. ' So he was truly relieved to avoid such an awkward position.

He barely replied to the few almost inaudible good-byes when rehearsal ended, left the theatre before the rest of the cast for the first time and thanked whoever might be up there that tonight had no preview scheduled and therefore he would have the chance to spend the evening with a lot more sleep - and definitely no alcohol!

###

A persistent knocking at his door, just as Derek had finished brushing his teeth for the night, re-stoked his anger. Who the hell dared to disturb him after it was obvious today that he was in a very bad mood?

Karen? Unlikely. Much as she might long for the 'nice guy' he showed her previously, she wouldn't come looking for that person after his behaviour during rehearsal.

Tom? Not really. He'd rather sit with Ivy, holding her hand and explaining to her what an asshole she...

_Oh, fuck them all! I just want to sleep!_

He went to the door, flung it open, ready for a sharp comment – and stopped before any word could slip out. Two strangers stood in front of him.

"Yes?" Derek managed to ask halfway between annoyed and irritated.

"Are you Derek Wills?" the older man asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I am; and who are you?" Derek inquired.

"Boston PD. I'm Detective Shaw, this is my partner, Detective Connelly." The man presented his badge. "We have some questions. May we come in?"

_Police? Questions? What the hell...?_

Derek had no idea. Nothing had happened to warrant calling the police; at least he couldn't remember anything, so he folded his arms in front of him and raised an eyebrow.

"And may I ask what questions you could possibly have for me at this hour?" he snarled.

"We'd prefer to explain that in private, Mr. Wills," Shaw replied and stepped nearer. "I'm certain you'll agree once you've heard what this is about."

Great. As if he hadn't already enough to deal with. But it seemed better not to discuss whatever matter in a hotel hallway, so Derek sighed, stepped back and let the detectives in, then shut the door and faced them.

"So, what is this all about?"

"Mr. Wills... Would you mind telling us where you were last night, let's say between two and half past two a.m.?" Connelly asked.

_Last night? Holy shit!_

Derek's mind cruised at maximum speed, but there was still nothing other than that damned black hole. He didn't remember anything after... after he entered a bar and ordered one Scotch after another, and so on, until... Oh, yes! There was that girl. First they had a few drinks. Later... probably sex; but he still saw nothing but darkness.

He cleared his throat when he realized that both detectives were staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry, but... I had a few drinks too many last night. My memories stop around half past midnight," he confessed and shrugged. "Why do you ask? Did I insult a cab driver?"

Shaw snorted in disgust, fetched a photograph out of one pocket and showed it to Derek.

"Do you remember her?"

One look was enough. That was definitely the blonde.

"I do," Derek nodded. "We had a few drinks together. Before the black-out," he added carefully. "I'm afraid I can't even remember her name, sorry. What's going on?"

The detectives exchanged a short glance before Connelly said:

"She was found dead today; tied to her bed with the belt of her own bathrobe - and choked on a neckpiece gag."

Tbc …


	2. Chapter 2

**Abyss – 2**

_Dead? Oh, God..._

Slowly, very slowly, Derek sat down. He searched his mind for any detail, something he could lock to a later time, after the bar where he met her. But his attempts were to no avail. The last thing he remembered was her inviting smile when she clinked her glass to his.

He hung his head and bit his lower lip before looking up again.

"I'm sorry." His throat felt too tight and his voice was almost cracking. "I really am; but my last memory is drinking with her, in that bar... don't remember the name of it either. It was..."

"The 'Box Seat,'" Shaw provided. "One of her friends, the one who found her, named that as her favourite establishment and the barkeeper confirmed she had been there yesterday. He also remembered you. Luckily enough, another of the regular guests recognized you and told us you are a well-known musical director. That's how we found you," he explained. "And both told us that you and Tracy Peterson left the bar together, so..."

"Tracy? That was her name?" Derek asked.

Both nodded, but the name still didn't ring any bell. Of course he was not surprised to learn that he had indeed left in her company; he'd already assumed he had had sex with her. He knew himself too well to think he'd done anything other than follow through his usual way of fighting inner demons. Only 'usual' didn't typically include lost memories and dead sex partners...

"Mr. Wills... We found a used condom in the trash can of Ms. Peterson's bathroom. Would you provide us with a saliva sample?" Connelly inquired and presented a cotton swab and a small plastic bag.

Derek closed his eyes for a short moment before he nodded and opened his mouth without any word. It was a strange feeling, this cotton thing sliding along his inner cheek, and he had to cough after it was removed. His own voice sounded hoarse in his ears.

"I suppose... it will match," he said without looking up. "If I left the bar with her, I most likely slept with her, too. But..."

He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, then rose from his chair and looked from one detective to the other.

"I cannot imagine, not for the love of God, that I would have done anything to harm her! Even if I don't remember. I am... well, a womanizer. You can ask anyone in the theatre scene, there's no denying it. But I have never, ever used violence, never hit or hurt a woman physically! Never, understood?" Derek tried to assure the police officers of his innocence. Well, at least in this capital crime aspect.

"We'll see" Shaw said in the same matter-of-fact tone he used when he introduced them. "Don't leave town until further notice, Mr. Wills. Good night."

Derek still stared at the closed door long after they were gone.

###

So much for sleep tonight.

Derek tossed and turned, couldn't find any peace, for his mind was still searching for any details of that fateful night. But as much as he tried, there was no enlightening, no hint that the girl was alive and well when he left her apartment. He must have left somewhere in the night; otherwise he wouldn't have woken up in his hotel room. And as he told the detectives, he couldn't think of any situation, any reason why he would have hurt her; let alone tie her up and gag her. Bondage and sadomasochism weren't his style.

No, he couldn't possibly have done it. He used women, as much as he needed to, whenever he felt like it – or when he was certain they needed his attention, like Rebecca or Karen. True, he didn't have sex with Karen, but not because he wouldn't like to. Quite the contrary! First she rejected him, and then he knew it would only drive her away from what he always wanted her to be. And Ivy...

He groaned and hid his face in the pillow. Not again! Derek strictly forbade himself to brood about Ivy, her ambitions, her feelings, and where those eventually landed her, for he knew all too well what part he played. He wouldn't allow himself to be touched by it in any way. Though it seemed that exactly this was the bloody root of Derek's own precarious situation...

Could he really be a murderer? Was it possible that he killed that Tracy at all, even accidentally? Wouldn't he feel strange inside or whenever he looked into a mirror if he had? Even drunk and without any memory it seemed impossible that he would not feel _something_, especially when he remembered the photo or his foggy memory of drinking with her.

No, there would be something different if he had a reason to feel guilty about that smiling face. If Derek was certain of anything, it was that.

###

Rehearsal went almost the same way as the day before. He spread his bad mood across the theatre, shouting at everyone, criticizing every second tune or move, and cut off any attempt from Julia to calm him down. Tom didn't even try, but only glared or hissed biting remarks in his direction which were just water on a duck's back to Derek. It was a constant fight to focus on the show instead of the dead girl, a fierce distraction he'd never experienced before. And he hoped with every fibre of his being that he would never be forced to face such a horrible thing again.

It was just half an hour before lunchtime when Derek heard a familiar voice asking for him. He closed his eyes for a short moment, and then turned to face both detectives who approached him in the hallway.

"Mr. Wills..."

"Mr. Shaw, Mr. Connelly..."

To call them by their ranks didn't seem right for Derek. Not here, not among the cast. Nobody could know what was going on in his private life.

"Mr. Wills, there are some more questions we need answered. Please accompany us to headquarters."

_To... headquarters? Oh, no... How the hell..._

Whatever Derek had suspected would come next, it was definitely not this! How could he hide the investigation from the cast if he had to leave now, in the middle of chaos? He had never left any rehearsal, let alone for what would probably be hours! But the stone-faced looks of both detectives told him that he could follow them willingly here and now or be escorted unwillingly, in front of the whole cast.

He set his jaw, nodded, grabbed his leather jacket and called the one person he knew would take care that tonight's preview would be as good as the former ones.

"Tom! I have to leave. You're in charge."

"Pardon me?" Levitt stared at him, obviously dumbfounded.

"I said I need to go and that you are in charge," Derek repeated without hiding his annoyance. "See to it that everything goes as expected."

"But, Derek!" Julia cut in, visibly surprised and confused. "You can't go, there's so much wrong today..."

"Then I suggest you support Tom in setting it right!" Derek snapped, then turned and marched out of the theatre without looking back, ignoring the voices and sounds of astonishment from the cast.

He could almost smell the police officers who were only inches behind him, but he refused to look at them until they reached their car. Connelly opened the rear door; Derek hesitated a few seconds, but finally decided to obey the silent order and climbed in. Moments later they were on the way to the police headquarters. No one spoke during the ride; the detectives asked no question, and neither did Derek although he'd desperately longed to know what awaited him.

Never in his whole adult life had he felt this way - helpless and at the mercy of people he didn't know how to deal with. This was no bloody theatre drama, this was reality. And he was not only performing the main part, he was the one who didn't remember what happened in the essential lapse of time. And on top of it all, he was damn sure neither of these fellows gave a shit about who he was...

Tbc …


	3. Chapter 3

**Abyss – 3**

"Your DNA matched the sperm in that condom," Shaw stated after he had closed the door of the interrogation room.

"I told you it probably would," Derek reminded the officer, and raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So there is something else I'd like to know," the detective replied and raised his chin. "Would you please remove your jacket, sweater, and shirt?"

"What?" Certainly Derek must have heard wrong. This smug police officer did not just tell him to strip, now did he?

"I said I want you to remove your jacket, sweater, and shirt," Shaw repeated. "There is something I need to see."

Derek's eyebrow climbed even higher when he folded his arms before him. "And what would that be, pray tell?"

"I'll tell you as soon as I've had a look at your upper body," Shaw promised with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

_Bloody hell. He... They... Oh, holy shit!_

Derek bit his lower lip and shook his head, before he finally obeyed and slowly removed his jacket. He pulled his shirt out of the jeans and then just shoved sweater and shirt up to his left collarbone, without removing them completely. He knew that wouldn't be necessary to reveal what he himself discovered when he took a shower yesterday morning.

"As I thought," Shaw commented, coldly. "Mind explaining how you got this scratch, Mr. Wills?"

After he had readjusted his clothes, Derek cleared his throat and shrugged.

"I suppose during sex. Wouldn't be the first time."

Connelly cut in for the first time, clearly disgusted.

"We found skin particles beneath Ms. Peterson's fingernails. Your skin, your DNA, Mr. Wills! And passionate scratches are usually found on backs, not fronts. Are you still pretending you don't remember? Do you even care that a young woman has been killed after you had your fun? That she probably tried to fight her murderer with everything she had?"

"Believe it or not, I _do_ care! And I am absolutely certain that I _didn't kill her!_" Derek barked back. His furious gaze shot daggers at the detectives. "I sleep with women, but only with their consent. I do not tie them up and gag them! Do I make myself clear?"

"The only things clear to me are that, first, you were the last person seen with her," said Connelly. "Second, that you used her to satisfy yourself, maybe even raped her, and third..."

He interrupted himself and looked at his partner who continued:

"That our team spent the whole night inquiring every cab control centre to find out if someone drove you from her apartment to your hotel. Negative. Same in Ms. Peterson's neighbourhood: No one saw you leaving, but one heard a scream around two a.m.. And according to the night concierge, you didn't arrive back at your hotel until a few minutes past four."

At this point, Derek's throat seemed to tighten far too much. Nothing helpful swept through his brain, there were still just shredded memories of the smiling blonde girl and her drink. For the first time in his life he was scared to death, because he saw no way out of this nightmare. And worse, he could think of absolutely no one who would be of any help.

"Derek Wills, given the evidence and your total lack of an alibi, you are under arrest for the murder of Tracy Peterson," Shaw declared. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. You have the right to make one call. Do you understand these rights?"

_If I …_

The words echoed in Derek's head, part of him did understand not only every word, but the terrible meaning behind them. But there was another part that screamed in rage, cursed and refused to accept the whole situation. At least until he felt his arms being pulled behind his back and his wrists being cuffed...

"I do," was all he managed to get out, now that he was shocked to the bones and unable to comprehend that this was really happening to _him_of all people.

###

How often had he watched suspects transported to jail in movies or TV shows? To experience that trip and those bitter emotions himself was far worse than Derek had ever imagined. Well, if he had even ever thought about it. The town's streets and buildings were just a blur; he couldn't focus on anything but the dead girl and the charge against him. The tight handcuffs were not just uncomfortable but felt like they were cutting into his skin. He had trouble balancing in the moving patrol car with his hands behind his back. But the worst thing was that he had not only fear for himself, but for the show as well.

News of his arrest would emerge in no time. Every reporter would try to squeeze information out of the cast members; they would get no peace for rehearsals or previews, neither for themselves. In the worst case, the investors would quit to distance themselves from the scandal the oh-so-famous director Derek Wills just produced.

_Condemned. 'Bombshell' is condemned. Now, after all that hard work; after those magnificent previews. And it is my fault..._

Derek closed his eyes and leaned his head against the car's window. They were both condemned - he and the show. Even if his future attorney would manage to bail him out, his reputation was ruined. No one would hire a director who was suspected of murdering a young woman...

###

After arriving at the jail, he had to endure the usual process of fingerprinting, personal search, and listing his personal things. This was not only too slow for Derek's patience - limited on even his best days anyway - but utterly mortifying. He was used to being respected, if not feared; here he was being treated like an insect, afraid of saying or doing anything wrong. Of course he remembered the rights read to him, that he didn't need to talk at all, but without speaking he couldn't get an attorney. So he asked one of the officers as he was about to be locked into a cell:

"May I call someone now?"

The man knitted his brows. "Didn't you already call your attorney?"

"No, I've had no chance to call anyone and as I don't know any attorney here in Boston, I need to call someone else. Someone listed in my cell phone," Derek explained.

A sigh and rolling eyes betrayed the officer's great interest in Derek's situation, but he nevertheless led his prisoner back to another cell with a phone inside. He locked Derek in and asked "Whose number do you need?"

The first name that came into Derek's mind nearly slipped out, but then he closed his mouth and hastily thought it over. No. Even if Eileen was his oldest friend, she couldn't help him right now. She was in New York and he needed a Boston attorney as quick as possible. Also, he needed someone to cover for him at the theatre. So, despite their deep mistrust and differences of opinion, there was only one person who could provide both necessities …

"Tom Levitt."

"Who's this?"

"Tom? It's Derek."

"Derek? Where the hell are you? And what kind of number is that?"

"Tom. Listen. Something happened."

"I know. You vanished and expected me to sort out the bloody mess you left behind!"

"No, that's not what I -"

"Oh, shut up. I don't want to talk to you at all. Just tell me - when do you plan to descend to your work?"

Derek sighed and cursed inwardly. Not that he expected anything of Tom but loathing, but he had no time for such childish behaviour now.

"Tom, it's important, I need you to listen! Are you listening?"

He could hear a snort of disgust; then Levitt answered.

"Yeah, I'm listening. Now what?"

Before Derek started to explain he swallowed hard. Under normal circumstances he would never... Well, nothing was normal anymore; he had no choice.

"I... I have been arrested," he confessed in a low tone. "I need an attorney, as quickly as possible."

"You have been _what?_"

Pure disbelief was clearly carried through the phone.

"Arrested. I am in jail and I need an attorney, as quickly as possible," Derek repeated. "Could you _please _find me one? If possible, without spreading it all over the world. And Tom? You'll stay in charge of the show as long as I'm absent. Do you understand?"

"Yes. And no," came the reply. "Why on earth have you been arrested? For scaring the living daylights out of the cast?"

With another deep sigh, Derek leaned his head against the cold wall. "I... They... they think I killed a girl," he finally confessed.

"Oh my God! But why would they -."

"Tom! Can we discuss this another time? I just want to get out of here! And for that I need -"

"An attorney, yes. I'll call Eileen and -"

"No! If I'd wanted her to do it, I would have called her, not you! She's in New York - I need someone here in Boston to get me one!"

"Okay, okay - I'll see to it. Anything else but that and the show?"

"No. That's all for now."

"Well, then..."

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

A pause, a deep breath - and then Derek managed to get out the one word he used very rarely in general, and probably never to Levitt.

"Thanks."

Tbc …


	4. Chapter 4

**Abyss – 4**

To Derek, it seemed an eternity until one of the prison guards eventually unlocked his cell, took him by his upper arm and led him to another room. A middle-aged, almost bald man was waiting there and introduced himself:

"Parker Bellamy, attorney at law. Mr. Wills?"

"Indeed," Derek replied, pulled his arm free from the guard's tight grip and looked at the officer with open impatience. "This is confidential. Leave."

The guard didn't answer, only smirked and shut the door behind him. When Derek heard the attorney sigh, he instantly turned on him.

"What?" he barked. "Since the first interrogation, I've been treated with nothing but disrespect, like any common stray! Now that I will finally get out.."

"Who says you will?" Bellamy inquired, honest amazement on his face.

Derek stopped abruptly and just stared at the attorney.

"That's what you're here for, are you not?" he asked and didn't bother to hide his growing annoyance and anger. "I've already spent five hours in that bloody cell! Do you know what that feels like? Three to four steps square, a metal toilet right out in the open, and _no damn privacy at all!_ I will never ever experience that again in my life! Do you hear me? _Never!_"

All those lonely hours behind bars, the despair of not knowing what happened the other night finally broke through. Derek was furious. He didn't care any more about rules of behaviour. He felt like a cornered animal: outnumbered, outgunned by evidence he couldn't fight properly because of his black-out, and on top of it all, reduced to utter worthlessness.

Bellamy shook his head and gestured toward one of the two stools.

"Sit. Calm down and let us try to work on a strategy for tomorrow's hearing in front of the custodial judge, Mr. Wills. Raging and insulting guards won't help your cause. Quite the contrary."

_Tomorrow?_

That was definitely not the word Derek expected to hear. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the attorney.

"What do you mean, tomorrow? I thought -"

"Custodial court has already closed for tonight, Mr. Wills," Bellamy explained. "But we will get a hearing tomorrow morning. So, as uncomfortable as you feel with your current lodgings, you must accept the fact that you will stay here for the night. There is absolutely no chance to change that, so I suggest you concentrate on what I need to know for bailing you out."

This unwelcome news was another shock for Derek; he had been certain he'd get out of jail before nightfall. He gritted his teeth and sat down; put both elbows on the small table and his head in his hands. The prospect of spending the night in that goddamn cell made him shiver to his bones.

"Okay. Now we can talk." The attorney sat opposite Derek and looked down on one of his papers. "Your DNA was found in the victim's apartment; is that correct?"

Derek nodded slowly.

"Apparently I slept with her," he said quietly. "They found a condom and it was my sperm."

"What do you mean by 'apparently', Mr. Wills? Do you not -"

"I was drunk. I had a black-out."

Silence. Derek didn't look at Bellamy. He was simply tired of repeating again and again something for which he would never forgive himself - drinking himself into such horrible oblivion that he wasn't able to defend his honour and his freedom with the truth. At least he still had hope that his inner sense of not being guilty was true.

"I understand. So you can't remember whether you did or did not tie and gag the girl. Is that correct, Mr. Wills?"

"Yes."

He heard Bellamy clearing his throat and finally looked up at him.

"Well, we have a problem. I know very few judges who would set a bond on a case like this. By the way, your accent..."

Derek raised his eyebrow.

"British. But what has my accent to do with a bail?" he wondered aloud.

"You are a British citizen?" Bellamy inquired and his whole stiffening up set Derek on edge again.

"Indeed; but -"

"Then I fear you have to face pre-trial custody anyway," the attorney said, and started to pack his papers back into his briefcase. "You are suspected of a capital crime and the police have clear evidence against you. You claim you can't remember anything of the critical time, and with foreign citizenship on top of that - every judge will evaluate the flight risk too high for setting a bail. I'm sorry, Mr. Wills. I'll try to persuade the court tomorrow - but I honestly don't see much chance of getting you out of jail."

###

Not only had Derek to concentrate fiercely on suppressing every nerve and instinct to refuse being locked up again without a fight - he also found it extremely hard not to slam his fist against the only wall of his cell. He longed to hurt himself bloody, just to get rid of his fury and utter despair.

Of course it would be far better and easier if he only could rage upon or punch someone else; but he knew too well that he wouldn't find anyone to vent his spleen at around here. Nevertheless he longed to beat that smug grin off that guard's face who gripped his upper arm unnecessarily hard on their way back to his cell. Again.

On top of that he felt absolutely unable to force down what they dared to serve for dinner a few moments later. It was a ridiculous mixture of white bread, some suspicious-looking pieces of what might have been meat in a thick, brown sauce, and a tomato that looked as fresh as if it had been imported across the Atlantic in a rowboat. Since he'd had no lunch, he knew that he should eat; but he couldn't bring himself to try and consume any of this awful looking stuff, and stuck to water.

Derek swore to sue the entire remand custodial system of Boston, Massachusetts the moment he get out for good for treating him like any scum picked off the streets.

Of course he couldn't find sleep, either. He tossed and turned like the night before, this time less comfortable because of that bloody cot they dared to call a 'bed' here, and finally quit trying. Instead, Derek marched up and down the small space between the bars until he felt burning rage building up again, so he finally decided to sit down on the floor, his back against the wall.

The tiny glimpses his memory offered of drinking with Tracy and of the photo he'd been shown haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. That was bad enough; but there were other memories, too. What had haunted him until he ran from it to drown himself in Scotch wasn't any better, and only got stronger the more he struggled to force it away. He had never felt like this before.

But then - there were so many firsts in his life now.

Derek didn't know how to deal with just one of them, let alone all together. Though he slowly began to suspect that each incident was meant to be part of one big mosaic, he still couldn't bring himself to accept the current situation, or worse, the possible outcome.

He bit his lower lip and leaned his head back against the wall. So much hard work had been put into the show, not only by him. And now everything was at risk. He doubted that Karen was strong enough to shine on the way she had, once the media jumped on her and the whole cast. The only person he supposed would fight back was Eileen. Of course she would come back and take care of the situation; but Derek was still afraid that just the thought of their director being a murder suspect would be too terrifying for the team to go on the way they had.

To wonder whether any of them would even think of considering him not guilty, Derek strictly forbid himself.

Tbc …


	5. Chapter 5

**Abyss - 5**

Though Derek eventually lay back on the cot, he didn't really get any sleep because he was still poring over his situation - and wondering if yesterday evening's preview went well or not. It was draining him that he had no chance of any contact but his attorney at the moment, to be completely shut out of information about the show, whether his arrest had screwed everything up or not.

Accordingly, his mood and his looks were lousy in the morning. He felt exhausted and queasy and would have done a lot for a hot shower, and fresh clothes, of course. But all he got was the same dry-looking white bread he'd already spurned the evening before, now accompanied by a tiny pat of butter, some unfamiliar kind of cheese and a small packet of jelly. What they served for coffee made Derek shiver after only a careful sip.

With a deep sigh he sat back on the cot and buried his face in his hands. No. Impossible. He could not stay confined. He would starve to death long before any court would ever see him. This Bellamy guy had to bail him out, no matter what! Though the prospect of being followed by paparazzi every minute didn't seem desirable, Derek was certain that he could deal far better with those hyenas than with imprisonment and smug officers.

Speaking of those, one of them unlocked his cell door. The very moment Derek reached the opening, the officer pulled out a pair of cuffs and ordered:

"Turn around, hands behind your back!"

_Of course..._

Though the custodial court rooms were in the same building, they would not be in the confined area of the jail. Derek understood the necessity of securing prisoners, not that it made any difference to his intimate feelings of fury and despair. Only his long-trained ability to focus on his personal aims prevented him from barking at or even threatening the guard, so he just clenched his jaw and obeyed, let himself being cuffed and marshalled to the courtroom quietly.

_God, just wait until I'm out of here! I swear I will sue you all - and whoever is responsible for this bloody mess!_

_###  
_

"Your Honour, the forensic results showed no indication so far that Ms. Peterson had been raped and our investigations confirmed that the suspect drank seven shots of scotch, at least at the bar where he met the victim, which should have led to a blood alcohol level around 0.2l. This allows at least the possibility that he had a black-out. Nevertheless - even if he really has no memory of what happened after he left the bar with Ms. Peterson - that doesn't change the fact that there's still no evidence whatsoever that anyone else was in the apartment that night; so we can conclude that Mr. Wills was the one who tied and gagged the victim. Though he may not have killed her deliberately, his actions nevertheless caused her death. Prosecution office hereby will charge Derek Wills with involuntary manslaughter and, given his British citizenship and his wayfarer profession and lifestyle, applies for further confinement until trial."

Derek heard someone inhaling sharply and realized that it was actually his own reaction to the prosecutor's submission. Part of him was truly relieved that he was not going to be charged with murder; but obviously the authorities were still certain that he was the one responsible for the girl's horrific death and Derek was well aware of the fact that, if the prosecutor would convince a jury of this theory, he still would have to spend several years in prison…

"Your Honour... Mr. Wills has a permanent visa, he owns an apartment in New York, and I assure you that he will not leave the United States, but stay in New York and report regularly to the police, if necessary, until this case has been solved," Parker Bellamy started his own plea. "My client has no history of violence nor any other illegal act; his record is absolutely clean. So I see no necessity to treat him like the dangerous animal Mr. Nichols makes him to be, and therefore apply to set Mr. Wills free on bail."

The sarcastic snort prosecution deputy Nichols made when Bellamy mentioned the 'dangerous animal' forced Derek to swallow hard. In the theatre world, he was known as exactly that - a prowling wolf. He just hoped that it wouldn't influence...

"Mr. Bellamy... Maybe you are not aware of your client's reputation," Nichols replied with a smirk. "Mr. Wills is famous for hunting down not only his so-called 'leading ladies', but any woman with a pulse. His nickname is 'The Dark Lord' because he is notorious for his bad temper in rehearsals - and often enough outside the theatres as well - and for trampling everyone necessary on his way to success. You can not seriously expect us to watch him walk away when it is obvious that he'll probably disappear the moment he leaves jail."

Though his attorney had instructed him right before the hearing to stay quiet under any circumstances, Derek wasn't able to suppress a wave of rage at Nichol's words. "Oh bloody hell, just because I push everyone to their best performance doesn't mean I..."

"Mr. Bellamy! Advise your client to stay quiet or I will impose an administrative penalty for contempt of court!" the judge interrupted in a cold tone.

"Yes, Your honour. I apologize for Mr. Wills," Bellamy said hastily, and looked very angry at Derek, who took a deep breath and then lowered his head. He knew very well that his outburst just fed Nichol's argument, but he couldn't help it. He was not used to needing anyone to defend him. Far from it. He wasn't used to the need of defence at all.

"As I said - Mr. Wills is unable to master his temper. I see no reason why he should roam freely and potentially lose control again," the prosecutor added.

"I agree. Mr. Wills will remain in custody until trial." The judge slammed his gavel down. "Officer - take him away!"

Derek bothered neither with Nichol's pleased expression nor with Bellamy's disappointed one. He could only stare at the officer approaching him, cuffs already in hand, and though he longed to run straight away from everything he would have to endure now, he was absolutely unable to move at all. Only seconds later he was bound and helpless again, feeling nothing but utter despair and a frightened weakness he never experienced before. When the officer grabbed his arm and started to walk, Derek refused to move but addressed his attorney.

"Mr. Bellamy, we need to talk, I have a lot of things to re-organize!"

"I have further obligations today, Mr. Wills. But I will call on you afterwards, in the late afternoon or early evening," Bellamy replied and turned to the door, but hesitated and looked back to his client. "Please, do yourself a favour and try to stay calm in the meantime; will you?"

Derek bit his lower lip and shrugged as far as he was able to with his hands cuffed behind his back. The next moment he was dragged away, back through the door he'd come in, and to the area of confinement. Only this time he was led into another section, even more secured with two safety lock entrance controls. He was taken into a room where three officers sat at a table, and finally relieved of those bloody cuffs.

Before he could say or at least ask anything, the bored looking central officer faced him and demanded:

"Strip!"

Tbc …


	6. Chapter 6

**Abyss - 6**

_Strip?_

Derek's eyes widened in sheer horror. He involuntarily clenched his fists, instinctively moved backwards - but was stopped by the night stick the officer who brought him here pressed into his back.

"I said _strip_," the other officer repeated in a harsh tone, and glared at Derek. "Whatever you think you are outside doesn't matter here! We have rules and you have to submit to them. Understood?"

There was absolutely no comparison to how Derek felt in this moment. He was not only completely helpless, but reduced to an object of ruling forces with no right to privacy or dignity. His muscles tensed, he clenched his jaw so hard his cheeks hurt - but he nevertheless gave in and finally started to remove his clothes and put them onto the table until he wore nothing but his pants. But after an impatient gesture of the officer, Derek pressed his lips together and stripped completely.

One of the men searched every item of clothing, then folded them in a careless manner, crammed them into a plastic bag and sealed it with some kind of adhesive label. He scribbled Derek's name on it, along with the date and time, and then dropped the bag on the floor. Afterwards he fetched a wristband out of a box in front of him and filled the same data in.

"Your wrist," he ordered and again, Derek obeyed, though every fibre of his body was ready to jump at the next person who so much as looked at him. The band was sealed and then the officer who had accompanied him here took his arm and led him out of the room. Before Derek got a chance to protest at being marched like this, barefoot and naked, he found himself next door, in front of a kind of counter. The officer standing there looked him up and down from head to toe, and then turned to the backspace where Derek could see storage racks filled with white and orange-coloured clothes. A few moments later the man put a bundle on the counter: clothes, socks and a pair of sneakers.

"Get dressed."

Nothing else, just this short command and the fact that the attending guard granted him at least two steps space for dressing. Derek swallowed hard, and even a few times again during the process. To his astonishment, the jail's uniform actually fitted well, even the shoes. Seemed the clerk officer had long experience in measuring sizes; but to be honest, Derek didn't really care. All he could think of was that every step, every item of the whole procedure took him inexorably nearer to the prison cell he would occupy for weeks, if not months - however long it would take to appoint a jury, prepare charges and defence and whatever else had to be arranged.

###

Derek was led on through another safety lock entrance, another door and then they reached a long hallway, lined with cells built of three masoned sides and a barred front. Nearly all of them were occupied; strange faces stared out at him. Most of the men seemed to be just curious, glad for any kind of diversion to their boring routine, but a few of the prisoners looked at Derek as if they would like to do unfriendly things to him - and probably to anyone they could get their dirty hands on. Despite his experiences of dealing with nearly every kind of character, Derek was terrified at the thought of getting involved with serious criminals.

The guard stopped, released his arm, and unlocked the door to an empty cell. The moment the officer grabbed for his arm again Derek finally reached the end of patience and rationality. The tension he'd suppressed for almost twenty-four hours now erupted - and he pushed the officer hard against the bars.

"Enough! I will not be treated this way, do you hear me?" he barked and fended off the guard's attempt to grab him again - even tried to punch the man, but failed and instead started to run back the way they just came. He heard the other prisoners shout and rattle, some of them cheering, but he didn't care. All Derek could think of was getting away from this horrible nightmare.

Just before he reached the main door, it opened and two other officers lunged at him. He felt a blow to his chest, then another into the hollows of his knees and, with a scream of rage, he crashed to the ground face-down. Seconds later, his hands were cuffed behind his back and a night stick was pressed into his neck.

"Seems you need a lesson of discipline, jackass," hissed one of the guards. "Well then, let's show you how you deserve to be treated!"

###

Darkness, just darkness. And no light at the end of the tunnel…

With a sigh Derek rested his head back against the cold wall. He was sitting on the cement floor of the cell. No cot, no toilet - nothing but walls around him. He couldn't see them, because the officers switched off the light after they shut the metal door; but he had seen it when they pushed him in. His hands were still cuffed behind his back so he wasn't able to hurt himself by crashing his fists into the wall, which was exactly what he longed to do right now.

Never in his life had he felt this way. Never, not even when he learned about his father's real nature. Though he'd been furious, too - back then he could at least deal with his rage; vent his wrath on the subject responsible. But now he was condemned to react, rather than act; to endure everything other people deemed fit to impose on him.

He would have given almost everything to remember what really happened; if he actually was responsible for Tracy's death. Still, Derek could not feel any guilt when he thought of her, at least not referring to anything worse than sleeping with her. The simple fact that he regretted to have her involved in his emotional turmoil at all didn't count that way, because he was truly sorry for the girl. If she'd never met him she probably would still be alive.

Closing his eyes, he bit his lower lip and sighed. There was no escape from whatever fate he was facing. He didn't have any power to pull strings or ask for other support than that of his attorney or investigation results. Not in this matter. This was a kind of reality he never had to deal with; therefore he couldn't rely on experience. And thinking of his reputation, he wasn't even sure if anyone would show him at least some moral support. Quite the contrary; too many people who envied or loathed him would be only too happy to watch his ruin with glee.

Perhaps Karen would at least be a little sorry, for she owed him everything. And he couldn't imagine Julia prejudging him, she was not that kind of person - way too nice in most matters. She wouldn't jump to condemn someone without certainty of guilt. Tom on the other hand...

No, Tom was a professional and wouldn't publicly voice his opinion if he thought him guilty; but Derek wasn't sure if their rickety truce for the show was still in force. After all those years avoiding each other and the negative feelings Levitt had for him, he saw no basis for any kind of further support there. About what the rest of the cast or even Ivy might think, Derek didn't bother to waste his leftover energy wondering about. They all had been appalled by Ivy's overdose and his non-reaction to it. They probably thought that he deserved whatever he would get. So, his only friend left who might help him was Eileen...

A strange lopsided and bitter smile grew on Derek's lips. This room was meant to teach him a lesson, to punish him for fighting the rules. Instead, he finally got the privacy and silence he longed for to clear his mind - and to come to terms with his current situation. The longer he sat here in the dark, the more he calmed down. Eventually, he dozed off.

Tbc …


	7. Chapter 7

**Abyss – 7**

A noise made Derek wake with a start. The door was open; the hall's fluorescent lights cast some light into the room and caused him to blink several times until his eyes adjusted to it. Then he recognized the officer he had attacked, leaning against the frame, arms crossed before his chest, and looking at him with an unreadable expression.

They held eye contact for a while without any word, and then Derek lowered his head and pressed his lips together. He was well aware what was expected of him - and he had to admit the man had every right to expect it. Well, it was something Derek was not generally used to, but he had managed twice to offer an excuse to Karen by choice recently, albeit for far lesser offenses. But here and now, he had to accept the fact that it was inevitable. So, after a last short bite at his lower lip, Derek raised his head and looked at the officer.

"I apologize," he said quietly.

"Fine. So you finally accept your current status and will follow instructions without a fuss?" the officer inquired.

As hard as it was for Derek to submit to anything but his projects, he was no fool. It was either obedience or nothing but further trouble or, worse, legal punishment for him. Therefore he had no choice.

"I will. You have my word," he acknowledged, still holding eye contact to confirm that he was absolutely serious.

A small, but obviously genuine smile grew on the officer's face.

"I thought so. You must know we have microphones installed in this room, to stalk our 'guests' here. Officially, it's for safety, but you have no idea how much fun we can have listening to cursing and ranting prisoners."

"I can imagine," Derek remarked dryly and, to his astonishment, began to smile himself.

"Of course - you're a theatre man," the officer replied and started to grin before he went on explaining. "Well, sometimes we are regrettably forced to release the inmates early to prevent psychological complications. Mostly when they start to sob."

"Seems a wise decision to me," Derek agreed. "How long do you typically keep people locked up in here? How long have I been...?"

"Three hours. Standard for the first event. Second try would be six, third twelve; but that we've got only once during the nine years I've worked here," the officer said. "It's almost as rare as what we experienced today - total silence. And I'm pretty sure you weren't so quiet just because you slept, were you?"

The man's expression betrayed not only curiosity, but honest interest; so Derek saw no reason to refuse an equally sincere answer.

"No, I had to think things over," he confessed, "and to tell the truth, this kind of privacy was exactly what I needed even more than..."

He stopped, looked aside and bit his lower lip again. There was still something eating at him and even if this officer seemed not so smug anymore, Derek wasn't certain if he could dare to inquire.

"What? Come on, spill it out; I won't bite," the man teased him and raised a smirk on Derek's lips, eased him up enough to speak his mind.

"I still wonder if it would be possible to treat remand prisoners with at least _some_respect instead of visible scorn," he finally got out.

Now it was the officer who smirked back.

"Tell me, Mr. Wills - would you respect an arrogant asshole who radiates with every fibre that he is far above the rules?"

_Oh …_

For one second Derek was dumbfounded at the guard's bluntness, but then he started to smile.

"No, I wouldn't," he confessed. "And therefore I can't blame you. Though I have to admit that I was not aware of acting like that."

"No surprise here. We know very well that you are notorious for being an arrogant bastard and I can well imagine that you are so used to it that you don't notice anymore." The officer's grin became even broader. "But I think we'll get along fine now, isn't that right?"

Derek couldn't help but chuckle, and nodded.

"We will indeed," he affirmed. "Though I fear I commit arrogance again when I confess that I didn't suppose anyone here would know a damn thing about me or the theatre world."

Now it was the officer's turn to chuckle; then he finally left his position at the door frame, bent down to grab Derek's arms and help him back on his feet.

"I think we can live with that. Now I will accompany you back to your cell, if you're ready."

Derek let out a sigh of relief, shook his legs in turn and agreed.

"As ready as you like, Officer…" For the first time he bothered to look at the man's name badge. "O'Shaugn. Can't wait to get rid of those damn cuffs!"

"Well, I believe every word of that." O'Shaugn laughed and led his prisoner back to the cell area. For the second time Derek felt quite uncomfortable to be stared at and shouted at by the other inmates. But to his astonishment, O'Shaugn barked a short "Silence!" and - they obeyed. They only kept staring.

The moment they reached the same cell as before his outburst, the officer unlocked the door and gestured to Derek to step in. Derek hesitated for a few seconds because he was still cuffed, and couldn't believe that O'Shaugn wanted to continue this part of the punishment. But he decided to trust the officer and stepped into the cell, but turned around as soon as the door was locked after him. O'Shaugn smiled and pointed at a square opening in the vertical bars of the lattice door.

"See this? It's not just for the food trays..."

Derek understood, nodded and turned around, presenting his wrists. He was then relieved of the cuffs, finally, and faced O'Shaugn again while starting to rub his sore wrists.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Oh, and one last thing - try to come to terms with the food. It's not as bad as it may look; and you don't want to get sick and have to be force-feed, now do you?" the officer proposed, causing another sigh from Derek.

"I'll try," he answered with a sigh. "And may I ask you one more thing?"

"Go ahead."

"What am I supposed to do all day? I don't think I can stand this without some kind of occupation. Am I at least allowed to read and write and to get the necessary things for both?"

"Of course," O'Shaugn nodded. "We have our own library. Three days a week, next turn tomorrow, someone goes around with a trolley full of books and a borrower's list. You can ask him for whatever you'd like to read, and if it's available, you'll get it. Same for writing stuff; pads of paper, pens and envelopes. Stamps have to be bought."

"Thanks again, then," Derek said. "And what about personal items, toiletries...?"

"If someone brings them here, you'll get them after they've been searched."

"Okay. Thank you."

O'Shaugn nodded one last time and then left the cell's corridor. Derek sat back on his cot and practised some loosening-up exercises for his tensed arms and shoulders. The long hours he had been cuffed were clearly perceptible, but he wouldn't complain. He knew too well that he alone was responsible for the pain.

As he was for some other people's pain and trouble; but as it would change no one's situation to quarrel with those regrets now, Derek pushed every thought of sorrow aside. He needed to concentrate on discipline and whatever was necessary to help Bellamy with preparing his defence. He would fight for his freedom with everything he had - but from now on, only in court.

Tbc…

A/N: Thank you for reviewing & favorizing; I'm glad you like it :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Abyss - 8**

Only a few hours later, Derek was fetched and delivered to the visitor's area. When the officer first announced that someone was here to see him, he assumed it would be Bellamy; but he was not led to one of the special meeting chambers where prisoners and their attorneys could talk in private. Instead, he and his guard entered a confined room with a long row of seats, each one separated by Plexiglas walls and equipped with phones to talk to the visitors.

He was positively surprised and of course relieved to see Eileen sitting on the other side of the security window. Derek sat down, smiled at her and picked up the phone, but frowned the next moment when he noticed her cold and angry expression.

"Eileen…" he started, but she interrupted him at once.

"Don't you dare say anything," she said in the strangest tone he had ever heard from her. "Do you have _any_idea of what havoc you have wreaked? What it cost me to not only protect the cast from the media, but to save the whole damn show?"

Her voice was as cold as ice, as was her killing glance. The former friend, no matter how much they fought in the past, was nowhere to be seen anymore. Quite the contrary. Derek had never felt so uncomfortable in her presence, let alone in a defensive position like this. Nevertheless, he made an attempt to express his honest regret.

"Look, Eileen... I'm aware that my arrest is probably troublesome for the show, but -"

"You have no idea, so shut up!" She cut him off again, even fiercer than before. "It's not only the extra money I've had to pay for a security team, so the cast can at least work despite getting stalked everywhere they go, it's you! I thought we were friends, that you would help me build up a new life without Jerry. And what have I got now? Nothing but trouble! First Ivy, now this girl! I should have listen to Tom and keep you away from 'Bombshell' from the beginning!"

Appalled, Derek leaned back in pure disbelief of her unexpected icy reaction, swallowed hard and tried again to get through to the woman, the friend, he'd known for so many years.

"Eileen, please listen! Whatever the police are saying, I am certain that I didn't harm the girl -"

"You were too drunk to remember anything, Derek! So don't tell me you're as innocent as a baby," Eileen hissed. "And it's not about the girl, as sorry as I am for her. You jeopardized everything we worked for all those long, hard months by drinking yourself into oblivion. I could ignore, even tolerate your reckless hunting, your outrageous behaviour, as long as it didn't interfere with my business. But now it does! And I can't and won't stand it any longer, understood? I have absolutely no use for someone so irresponsible. You're fired!"

_FIRED?_

Derek's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opened and shut a few times until his mind was able to think rationally. Whether or not he was found guilty, he would stay confined for weeks, or possibly months. Obviously, the show needed another director, at least during the following previews; therefore he couldn't blame Eileen for firing him now. It was the only logical decision. But of course, when his attorney succeeded and he was freed, he would return to 'Bombshell' and...

"For good!" Eileen added, at exactly the moment Derek's thoughts reached the point when he would overtake his job again.

"What?"

He must have misheard. She did not just say that he had been ultimately sacked, now did she? The thought alone was so surreal, Derek found himself absolutely unable to comprehend.

"I said you - are - fired - for - good," Eileen repeated, pronouncing every word in a way that left no doubt of her utter disdain. "And regardless to the court's verdict - I will never hire you again. I am through with you, and I don't care if you ever get out of jail! But just in case you do, I'll get a court order to keep you as far from my show as possible. Oh, and by the way - when the cast checks out tomorrow morning, I am not paying for your hotel suite. After your escapade forced me to hire a security team, I consider that as the least compensation."

There was no doubt that Eileen was absolutely serious, that she really condemned him, abandoned him to an uncertain fate. Derek was not only horrified, but desperately disappointed. Of course he had expected sharp words - a lecture, or even a furious tirade - but it had never occurred to him that she would drop him like a hot potato.

"Good luck. You'll need it," Eileen finished, hung up the phone and left without giving him the slightest chance to speak with her again.

To place his phone back was an automatically move. Apart from that, Derek sat and stared with unseeing eyes at the place Eileen just left, running one hand several times through his hair, until the guard came and took him back to his cell. There he just lay down on his cot and buried his face deep in the pillow, struggling hard to fight back the tears he would definitely not allow anyone here to see.

He had put all his hope into Eileen's support. Now he was alone, with no ally but his attorney: a thought that left a very bitter taste and made him shiver to his bones. Though he had managed almost everything in his life on his own, without fear, Derek now felt not only lonely and awfully lost but terrified, imagining what the press might have written about him and the dead girl - or any other incident involving any female who had ever crossed his path...

###

At least Parker Bellamy continued to stay by his side. The attorney advised him about everything that needed to taken care of, let him sign the necessary authorizations to instruct Derek's bank to pay upcoming bills, such as his apartment's or hotel's suite rent, and to allow Bellamy access. The attorney promised to drive to the hotel, pack and deposit safely everything Derek did not need now, and to bring over his toiletries and writing stuff.

After everything was well-ordered, Bellamy looked at his client with a meaningful expression.

"Mr. Wills. There are two further matters we need to talk about."

"Which would be...?" Derek inquired.

"First – I suggest we ask for questioning with a lie detector. Even if you don't remember anything, the test will at least prove that you're not lying about the black-out. In the worst case, we can base a plea for temporary mental incapacity on that."

Not that Derek was looking forward to appearing mentally incapable to anyone, even if only temporary. But of course Bellamy was right to try everything to prevent a full six-year sentence, which would be the maximum he could get for involuntary manslaughter with his clean record.

"Agreed. And second?" Derek asked.

"In an interview with 'The Boston Globe' Ms. Peterson's parents announced that they will file civil action against you. If the jury finds you guilty, you will probably end up completely out of funds," Bellamy told him. "That is, after I have been paid. You will definitely be able to afford my services for the whole process. Despite that, I'm afraid you will lose everything - and spend the rest of your life in debt. Please understand that I don't tell you this to terrify you. It's a question of experience that compensation for loss suffered through crime is not taken lightly, but assessed highly. You need to know and start to adjust to this possible scenario."

Derek sighed and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure that he would be able to stomach any more bad news. Not only was he threatened with years of captivity, he would be bankrupt and, on top of that, without any chance to work in show business ever again if they lost. Well, he would seriously consider suicide before he would end up labouring his ass off for other people instead of himself.

Tbc …


	9. Chapter 9

**Abyss – 9**

Though Derek did eat at least some of the dinner - which actually turned out to be not that bad at all - it was not because he had been hungry, despite the fact that he hadn't had a decent meal in two days. It was just a rational decision to stay in fair condition. Nevertheless, he was deeply exhausted, if only mentally, and so finally got his first night of sound sleep since he learned of Tracy's death.

After the wake-up call they were led in groups of ten to the showers, granted a period of time that felt like less than five minutes including undressing and redressing, and shepherded back. But Derek was grateful enough to shower at all, even only briefly and with some cheap kind of liquid soap he wouldn't touch with gloves under normal circumstances.

Breakfast was a bit more tolerable than dinner, but afterwards, Derek started feeling bored and restless. He simply was not used to sitting around without any kind of occupation. The book trolley was not due for a few hours, O'Shaugn told him on his way back from the showers. What time Bellamy would arrive with the toiletries and writing stuff he had no clue, so he started to pace his cell, if somewhat more slowly than the last time.

"Hey, Brit! Stop that. You're making me nervous." The black man who occupied the cell across the corridor addressed him.

Abruptly, Derek came to a halt and looked at the man, a sharp retort already on his lips; but he swallowed it, for the open face didn't seem to mean any spite or harm. For a few moments Derek contemplated whether he should get involved with anyone here at all. But the thought of having absolutely no one to talk to for weeks or even months - except Bellamy and O'Shaugn, when he was on duty and had some time - drove him to change his mind.

"Since I already _am_nervous, how about you help me to calm down and I stop walking?" he suggested, somewhat uncertain if this was the right way to deal with inmates.

"Seems fair to me." The other man grinned. "So, let's start with introductions. I'm Kevin."

"Derek."

"Okay, Derek. Nice to meet you," Kevin replied, and though it seemed surreal to Derek to discover civil manners in a place like this, his impression grew that this man was not any common scoundrel. So he decided to treat him with the same respect as the officers - at least as long as he was sure he wasn't befriending a murderer or rapist or something equally heinous.

"Nice to meet you, too, Kevin. May I ask why you are here?" he inquired carefully.

"Of course you may. Secrets don't last long around here anyway. I punched a man who insulted my wife. Unfortunately, he crashed through a store window and was injured badly by the glass," Kevin explained and sighed, shaking his head. "Didn't want that, just wanted to teach him a lesson. But it happened and so I'm charged with aggravated assault, and on top of that, lost my job."

"Oh." With a sigh of his own Derek leaned on the bars and ran his hand through his hair. Not only was he surprised to feel sorry for Kevin, but he actually empathized with him. To tell the truth, he knew exactly how his fellow inmate felt right now.

"My sympathies. I was fired yesterday, too."

As he heard himself speak the words, Derek realized that he was sharing his own personal catastrophe with a complete stranger. He stiffened, didn't have the heart to look at Kevin anymore. What the hell had he been thinking? Now he would not only lose any respect he might have had, but become the laughingstock of the Boston County Jail. The great Derek Wills - fired like any untalented flop! He didn't dare to imagine the tone of the headlines which were most likely broadcasting the news today.

"I'm sorry, mate." Kevin's voice reached his ears. No mocking, no malice could be heard in his words, so Derek finally raised his head and carefully gazed at Kevin again. Still he read only sorrow and sympathy in the dark eyes and out of relief he managed to produce a small smile.

"Thanks."

"Well, it seems you'll be here for a while, too. What's your charge?"

Of course Kevin would ask. Derek should have known. Yet he still was more than uncomfortable with speaking about the horrible nightmare into which he had manoeuvred himself. But he also refused to break up a newly-formed contact which would probably be the only one he could have for a long time. Nevertheless he had to fight his very own demons of arrogance and bitterness before he was able, eventually, to answer.

"Involuntary manslaughter."

His voice sounded hoarse and he wasn't even sure he spoke loudly enough for Kevin to understand; but when he observed how the black man's eyes widened, he had no doubt about that anymore.

"Damn. How the hell did that happen?" Kevin inquired. "Aside from your outburst yesterday, you don't seem the violent type to me."

Derek snorted.

"If I really am responsible for the girl's death, it was an accident; but I don't know. I was drunk and had a black-out," he confessed. "I don't remember anything. I don't even know if I have an alibi or not."

"God, that's a really bad situation, particularly for a man of your kind. You're quite a character, if I may say so."

"You may say as you like, Kevin," Derek replied with a bitter smile. "I lost my freedom, my job - and certainly every last bit of reputation and respect I ever had out there. Why should I give a damn about what people might think anymore? Especially when I never cared before..."

Though he knew the instant he finished the sentence that he probably had insulted Kevin, despite sympathy and the need for someone to talk to, he didn't break eye contact or make an attempt to apologize. But to his relief Kevin seemed to understand his mood.

"Relax, Derek," Kevin suggested. "It takes a few days to adapt to jail routine and come to terms with the charge, but it will be easier to live with. At least until trial. I'm still afraid of what kind of sentence I'll get and whether my wife can cope with the outcome and stay by my side."

"She should. After all, you punched that bloke on her behalf," Derek said. "But if you ask me, I wouldn't count on her. Women are all alike. One day, they adore you, second day they sleep with you, and from the third day on they cling to you as if their life would crash the very moment they let go. But as soon as you are honest enough to tell them you don't like anyone attached to you like a limpet, they get spiteful and yell and call you a liar, or worse - and do something incredibly stupid to ruin everything. No, Kevin. Better count on her leaving. And if she actually stays, you will be at least positively surprised."

Silence enveloped the whole corridor and it was at that moment Derek became aware that not only Kevin, but almost every prisoner in hearing range had listened to their conversation. He swallowed and cleared his throat out of an unfamiliar sensation of embarrassment, ready to defend his personal opinion about relationships with women - but a few sounds of laughter and cheeky remarks from other prisoners eased him up.

"Seems you have a lot of experience," Kevin chuckled. "But thanks; I think I'll go on trusting her as long as I don't learn of any reason not to."

"Dig your own grave, but don't come complaining when she's gone," Derek replied and felt at least a little bit relaxed for the first time since he had been arrested. Maybe it wasn't so bad to get involved with imprisoned people after all.

Tbc …

###

A/N: Thank you for reviewing.

I really appreciate everyone wondering about Derek's fate. Of course I won't answer any speculations, no spoilers ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Abyss – 10**

After the conversation, Derek spent some time just lying on his cot and trying to concentrate on what kind of books he might borrow from the jail's library. To think of the one person he had on his mind, albeit involuntarily, when he talked about women's behaviour would be sailing extremely dangerous waters and he didn't want to collide with those reefs again. But he was pulled out of his reverie quickly when O'Shaugn appeared at his cell door and announced a visitor.

Eager to get away from thinking at all, Derek looked forward to meet Bellamy; but again, he was led to the other visitor's area. For a brief moment he considered if perhaps Eileen had changed her mind, but he dismissed the idea only seconds later for fiction. She had been right to fire him and she was way too angry at him to alter her point of view about abandoning him completely in less than a day. But who else would come to see him?

Derek had absolutely no clue; therefore he was utterly surprised when he recognized his visitor and continued to stare at him in disbelief while he picked up the phone.

"Don't take it as an insult, but you are the last person I expected to come," he said by way of greeting, and saw an eyebrow rising.

"If you don't want me to be here, I can leave," Tom Levitt replied, but without the usual scorn or any sign of moving.

"No."

After all the time they had been fighting, it was a strange feeling for Derek to be truly glad to see Tom; accordingly difficult was it for him to say so.

"I... I don't want you to leave," he finally managed and tried to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat. "It's just that I didn't expect anyone from the cast at all, and definitely not you."

Levitt showed a small lopsided smile and shrugged.

"I ran into your attorney last night at the hotel and helped him pack your things. When he told me what you need, I decided to bring your writing stuff and toiletries. Already turned everything over to the officers; you'll get it as soon as they've searched everything to make sure I'm not smuggling in weapons. Or a cake with a file in it."

Derek's eyes widened, and again he had to fight with a sudden speechlessness. The pure fact that Tom Levitt of all people felt up to support him, even if in such minor matter, knocked him over.

"Thank you," was all he could say at first, then he lowered his head and bit his lower lip before he was able to ask: "Did... Did Eileen tell you..."

"That she fired you? Of course," Levitt confirmed. "She pronounced it to the cast like trumpet horns at a triumph march in ancient Rome. When we are back in New York, Gustavo Dominguez will join 'Bombshell' as new director."

Derek looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Dominguez? Wasn't he working on a Musical version of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'?"

Tom snickered and a broad grin grew on his lips.

"He quit when Johnny Depp rejected the offer to take up his movie character on stage."

Now Derek, too, chuckled and shook his head.

"Unbelievable. He really asked him? What a fool."

"Well, at least this fool isn't charged with anything capable of destroying our show." Levitt dryly reminded Derek of his precarious situation.

"You're right," Derek had to admit, and clenched his jaw.

"So tell me, Derek," Tom started and intensified his gaze. "Is it true that you don't remember anything but drinking with that poor girl - or are you just pretending a black-out because you don't have the balls to bear the consequences of losing control?"

Though he was taken aback by this blunt inquiry, a kind of courage he had never given Tom credit for, Derek held eye contact without the tiniest flinch and countered: "What do you think?"

Again, Levitt showed a small smile.

"I think you are an arrogant bastard who, even on the edge of years of imprisonment, still behaves like the same asshole as ever," he stated, astonishingly without getting into the angry condition Derek was used to. "Come on; try to be a reasonable human being, just for once, and give me an honest answer!"

If anyone had told Derek that he would ever have a conversation like this with Tom Levitt, of all people, he would have laughed. But not only was Tom here and had brought his stuff - he actually seemed to be really interested in the truth. Not only out of curiosity; there was something in Levitt's eyes Derek couldn't name properly, but it made him feel less abandoned. Whatever it was, he felt suddenly comfortable with talking about the whole story and started right away, never taking his eyes from Tom's to prove his sincerity.

"Okay, yes. I really had a black-out. The last thing I remember is drinking with a blonde girl in an unfamiliar bar. Next memory is the terrible headache I had when waking in my hotel room, around forty-five minutes before rehearsal. When the police showed me a photo of that Tracy Peterson, I knew that she was the one I shared drinks with, but I can't remember anything after that, no matter how hard I try. And despite the plain evidences, like my sperm in a condom they found in her bathroom - I don't feel guilty! There is absolutely no change in my feelings or in my eyes when I look in the mirror, Tom! Nothing more than general sorrow that a young woman is dead. And..."

For a short moment Derek interrupted his speech to inhale, he hesitated again but went on after a few seconds:

"And... I never tied up any sex partners, let alone gagged them! Not even when they asked me to do it, because I don't like it; it is not my style. So, why for God's sake would I have done it this time? It is forensically proved that she was not raped, neither by me nor anyone else. So when the sex was mutual, why would I tie her up and gag her? There's no logic in that!"

The time they went on just looking at each other felt like an eternity for Derek. He couldn't read anything in Levitt's face. For the first time since they were acquainted, the composer hid his emotions too well to be read, a completely new experience for Derek. And not one he was enjoying right now - quite the contrary! To be forced to wait for a reaction was far more unnerving than any confrontation they'd ever had.

Finally, Tom not only smiled, but said quietly: "I see. And I believe you."

"You... you really..."

To hear those words from his long-time opponent was more relief than Derek could have imagined. He closed his eyes for a short moment and took a deep breath before he locked eyes again with Levitt.

"Thank you, Tom. You have no idea what it means to me that you don't condemn me."

"Wait, I didn't say that," Levitt protested, but in a teasing manner. "You have done more than enough to deserve condemnation. But in this special matter... I think you have way too much experience in using women just for sex and dropping them instantly afterwards. In my opinion there is no reason why you should have acted so atypically, even totally drunk. No, I honestly believe that you are not guilty."

Tom smiled encouragingly and Derek was utterly grateful that he had actually been gifted with a supporter, especially with one he never would have counted on.

"Tom, I don't know what to say; how to thank you..."

"We'll find a way when you're back," Tom grinned. "You can be sure I will remind you!"

"Of course," Derek replied, but let out a sigh instantly. "I will not be back, even if I get free. Eileen... She fired me for good and even threatened to get a court order to keep me away from 'Bombshell'."

Now it was Levitt's turn to frown.

"I know she's extremely pissed; but I didn't think she was _that _pissed." He squinted and then suddenly looked at his watch and winced.

"Speaking of Eileen - I have to leave or I'll miss the train! No need to enhance her fury."

"No; least of all by having to explain where you were. Or did you tell her?" Derek inquired, though he was pretty certain of the answer.

"Of course not! She would have skinned and roasted me on the spot," Tom answered. "So, keep your tail up, we'll stay in contact. But to be on the safe side, give your letters for me to Mr. Bellamy, I'll tell him where he can send them. Better not let Eileen getting wind of it."

"Definitely not; in her current mood she is liable to fire you, too," Derek agreed. "Thanks again, Tom; and - break a leg!"

"You too. Bye, Derek."

"Bye, Tom."

###

Long after he was brought back to his cell, Derek still smiled - even more when he finally got his toiletries and writing equipment. When the library's trolley appeared, he picked a novel which promised some fun instead of the drama he would have preferred before Tom's visit. There was no real change in his situation, but to know that someone believed him and cared about him felt like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

Tbc …


	11. Chapter 11

**Abyss – 11**

The following weeks passed surprisingly easier and much faster than Derek had feared. As Kevin had told him, he adapted to the daily routine in a few days, despite his typically low patience. Of course the long and ever-varied conversations with his fellow inmate helped as much as the regular letters from Tom and the result of the lie detector test to balance his mind.

It was now official that he didn't pretend, but really had a total black-out, though they had to break and repeat the test after he got annoyed with the illogical questions necessary to check the correct technical function and started to bark out the answers, therefore falsifying the first results. This and the agreement between him, Bellamy and the guards to not accept any visitors from press were a great relief for Derek. To learn how much the media dragged him through the mud was bad enough.

As sorry as he was to lose someone who actually became a friend, he was truly happy for Kevin when he left prison for good, because he got away with the hoped-for probation sentence and 200 hours of community service. Though he needed to find a new job, he was confident he'd get one. Before this incident, he had worked as first barkeeper in a four-star hotel lounge, which explained to Derek his fine manners and education.

Well, of course none of the upper class hotels or bars would hire someone on probation or with a record at all, but there were plenty of establishments in town whose owners wouldn't bother, as long as they could get a professional cocktail mixer at good value, Kevin told Derek when he visited him two days after his release. And he not only promised to stay in contact, no matter how Derek's case turned out, but brought him a cheesecake his wife had baked for Derek out of gratitude for being her husband's friend during confinement.

Never before in his life had anyone baked a cake for him, not even his mother who didn't like any kind of housework at all, so Derek was genuinely moved by this gesture. Especially when he remembered his assumption about her leaving Kevin. Either his friend didn't tell her or she was gracious or good-humoured enough to overlook it.

Miles O'Shaugn was the only person with whom he shared the delicious cake, for he didn't get as close with any other inmate as with Kevin, but instead was on a first name basis with the officer.

###

Despite the Boston scandal, 'Bombshell' was on its way to great success, he learned from Tom. The show got standing ovations in every town in which they performed previews, and no less than good, but mostly excellent critical reviews. Contrary to Derek's apprehension, Karen grew stronger with each performance and now had the support of everyone. Levitt mentioned that Dominguez didn't change any major decision Derek ever made, neither in choreographic nor costumes or dance procedures, so at least his work hadn't been dropped like himself.

Also he told Derek that though the cast seemed generally more relaxed than under his direction, especially after the media hype about the crime scandal had diminished, it was still obvious that after every little mistake during rehearsals they were anxiously awaiting the usual outburst. Sometimes Tom couldn't help but snicker openly, given their faces when realization dawned after Dominguez' soft and polite standard remark "Ah, you can do better; try again, will you?"

In the first letters they exchanged, there was still an awkward tension between them, unsurprising considering the barrier they had built eleven years ago. But the longer and the more intensively they shared each other's lives, the more their writing eased up and after six weeks Derek felt as if he had been part of Tom's life forever. He was happy to follow Levitt's constantly growing relationship with Sam and - though not without troublesome emotions by reading about her - to learn that Ivy made good progress in rehab. Nevertheless, to Derek's relief, her therapist attested that her mental condition was still too fragile for her to attend his trial as a witness.

When he read about Julia's destroyed marriage, that she was getting a divorce because she was with child from Michael Swift, he buried his face in his hands and for the first time not only felt honestly sorry for her, but in some way partially responsible. Now he understood why she had been so distracted, even absent for quite some time, and he loathed himself for not caring. He had always liked her, despite their different natures, but failed to show it - because he had never expressed his true emotions, nowhere and to no one. Well, at least until his incarceration.

In his answering letter, he tried to explain this new experience to Tom and finally dared to send his regards and sincere wishes for a happy future to Julia. When he was greeted back and learned that she agreed with Levitt about Derek's innocence, he even had to fight back tears of joy, an entirely new emotion for the ever-so-cold Dark Lord. Well, it seemed he had to accept the fact that he was about to convert. Probably not the whole way to a shining Jedi knight, like the eponym his nickname was based on, but it was a start.

Eileen was still angry enough at him to strictly forbid any mention of his name or the case itself in her vicinity. But, as Derek well knew, she would be forced to endure it, if only for a short while. Bellamy had told him that some members of the show had been summoned as witnesses for the prosecution, including her. Tom and Julia, however, reported to Bellamy to testify for Derek's defence, a fact that would stir not only a lot of questions, but probably trouble for them both as well, especially if the jury found him guilty…

###

The evening before court, Bellamy insisted they run through every item one last time. When he mentioned the deputy would be the very same Nichols as in the custody hearing, Derek frowned. He didn't like that man from the start and would have preferred someone else.

"We could have got deputies far worse, Mr. Wills," Bellamy remarked. "Usually he is severe, but not mean. I worry far more about the judge. The originally appointed one had to transfer our case over some urgent family matter; now we'll have to convince a woman that you are not the big bad wolf that killed poor Little Red Riding Hood."

"Great! As if I've had luck with women lately." Derek sighed and shook his head. "Or ever at all," he added far more quietly. "So let's hope for a predominantly male jury, then."

Bellamy allowed himself one of his rare smiles before he returned to his papers.

"Let's get back to the facts. Nichols has summoned the following witnesses: Detectives Shaw and Connelly, one Dr. Helena Chaketis from the PD's forensic lab, the bartender of the 'Box Seat', then of course the regular guest who identified you, Ms. Peterson's friend who found her, the night concierge of your hotel, Ms. Rand, Ms. Cartwright..."

"Karen?" Derek's eyes widened out of pure disbelief. "Karen will testify against me? She owes me everything she achieved with the show!"

"Well... I don't know if she reported to Nichols or if he summoned her, Mr. Wills. If he did, she had no choice."

With a sigh Derek leaned back in his chair and bit his lower lip. He could only hope that Nichols wouldn't get her to mention their private casting session; it would...

"Do you know one Devan Sundaram?" Bellamy inquired. "He's listed, too, but I can't see any relation of the case to a politician's secretary."

"Oh bloody hell!"

Derek inhaled sharply, and then rested his forehead on the table for a short moment before turning to Bellamy, who looked worried.

"What is it, Mr. Wills?"

"Dev was Karen's fiancé. He... we had a kind of fight once, when he learned about..."

He lowered his head, clenched his jaw and hesitated, but he was well aware that it was absolutely necessary to be honest with his attorney, so he finally continued:

"After the callback audition, I summoned Karen to my apartment, for some kind of... let's say, private recall, to help me decide if she or Ivy should get the Marilyn part…"

When he heard Bellamy's deep disappointed sigh, he knew he didn't need to tell more.

"You really are a prowling wolf, Mr. Wills," the attorney stated. "And I'm sure you know damn well how hard it will be to convince anyone of at least some doubt about you being guilty."

"Yes."

Still staring at the floor, Derek pressed his lips together and ran his hand through his hair.

"Did you sleep with her?"

"No. We didn't even kiss. She performed 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President', leaned into me, our legs touched. Nothing more! She left right after she finished the song."

"At least that's something; was she fully-clothed?"

A short, bitter laugh escaped Derek, he shook his head.

"She wore nothing but one of my shirts, which she probably found in the bathroom, and her panties. But I didn't ask her to, you have my word! I just prompted her to show me a perfect Marilyn, because in audition, I was truly impressed by her voice but wasn't sure about the sexual charisma necessary for the role."

"So you didn't touch her, or worse, offer her the role in exchange for sexual favors?"

"Definitely not!" Derek locked eyes again with Bellamy. "Nor with Ivy Lynn, though I had an affair with her and gave her the part of Marilyn. We liked each other, had fun together - it just fitted, at least for a while. But I never offered or made a deal with either of them!"

"Good for you. And we can be glad that Ms. Lynn is excused by her therapist, otherwise I'd dare say a sentence would be as good as pronounced. So, let's see who's testifying for defence..."

"Not much," Derek murmured. Though he'd lived through so many firsts since that fateful night, he still discovered new ones. To be dependent on other people's opinions or even their help he still struggled with, after so many years of managing and deciding everything on his own.

"Unfortunately not," Bellamy confirmed. "But, as in many matters, quality is often far more important than quantity. Ms. Houston and Mr. Levitt have both known you a long time, so I count on their testimonies quite a lot. The result of the lie detector test is of help, too, but Dr. Stanton will make clear that this proves only that you actually had a black-out, not that you didn't tie and gag the victim."

"I know. But I'm glad that at least it will spare me being called a liar and coward."

"That's true. So there's only one thing left."

Derek raised an eyebrow.

"And what would that be?"

His attorney fixed his gaze more intensively.

"The very fact you've concealed since the beginning: The reason you drank yourself into such a precarious condition; why you were in that part of town at all, only an hour after the preview's end."

"No."

Derek's pressed lips were only small lines. He folded his arms in front of his chest, lifted his chin and held eye contact without a flinch.

"I won't talk about that."

"Maybe you don't have a choice, Mr. Wills. When every witness has finished, all evidence is presented and our chances seem as bad as I'm afraid they will, I have to call you to the stand - and then I will ask you about it. And I advise you strongly to confess the truth, whatever it is. Because I'm absolutely certain that you are not hiding something illegal but very, very personal."

Again, Derek looked away, sighed and bit his lower lip.

"As I thought. Prepare to be forced to share whatever it is, Mr. Wills. If it's intense enough, perhaps it can save you." With that, Bellamy left his client to another night of desperate tossing and turning.

Despite all changes he had experienced in his mind and emotions since his arrest, the pure thought of revealing the demons which drove him into that bar haunted Derek a great deal more than the prospect of further imprisonment.

Tbc...


	12. Chapter 12

**Abyss – 12**

After wearing the orange jail uniform for nearly two and a half months it was a strange feeling for Derek to dress in his own clothes for the trial. Bellamy had taken his suitcase home after he had paid the hotel bill and even took some of the clothes to the cleaner, for which Derek was truly grateful. Nevertheless, he felt extremely nervous when he was escorted to the courtroom.

Not only was it the first time since he left rehearsal to get arrested that he would meet his former colleagues, except Eileen and Tom, it would also be the first time everyone would see the famous Dark Lord cuffed and completely at the mercy of others. He was pretty sure to be greeted with an atmosphere of loathing and glee.

But what he feared the most was the confrontation with Tracy's parents. Not so much because of their civil action, though he would be definitely bankrupt for good if the horrendous amount they sued him for would be awarded by the jury. No, Derek was far more afraid of how they would probably look at him, and he honestly felt that it would be much easier to bear if he could only remember what happened, even if he really was responsible for their tragic loss.

During his confinement Derek had begun more than a dozen letters addressed to the girl's family wherein he had tried to explain his feelings about her death and offer his condolences, including an apology for involving her in his very own abyss at all. But in the end, he always felt that his words were hollow phrases, nothing but poor excuses for something absolutely inexcusable, so he never dared to actually send one.

###

As expected, the courtroom was packed and everyone stared at him when Derek was finally led in. He tried to concentrate on Bellamy; at least until he reached his place and the guard removed the cuffs. After greeting his attorney and a deep breath he dared to carefully glance around. Right in the first bench behind the defence area Tom, Sam and Julia welcomed him with nods and encouraging smiles which he was only too glad to return. He also recognized Kevin, who sat a few places away from them and winked at him. The beautiful woman at his side Derek assumed to be Kevin's wife and he smiled back at both of them, sincerely thankful for their moral support.

He then slowly turned his view to the bench behind the prosecution deputy's place. Eileen stared straight at the judge's still empty seat, obviously ignoring him. Karen seemed to be quite nervous, for she quickly peeked at him, but then lowered her head and fumbled with her bag. Derek raised an eyebrow when he observed that the next moment she pushed Dev's hand away in a gruff gesture when he tried to take hers, and hissed at him. If they had reconciled, Tom would have told him; but it seemed to Derek that this stupid politician was still trying to get her back.

Well, for her career's sake he hoped Karen would not fall for that jerk again, and he looked away - and promptly met the stares of a couple standing together with Deputy Nichols and another strange woman. The terrifying mixture of sorrow, hate and disdain he read in their eyes was even worse than he had expected it to be and Derek felt absolutely unable to stomach it. With pressed lips he turned away from Tracy's parents and just dropped into his chair, feeling nothing but utter despair. How was he to deal with this when he would probably never remember what really happened that night? No matter the judicial outcome, he would stay unknowing for the rest of his life whether he was responsible for the girl's death or not. For the first time it dawned on Derek that such a horrifying future might break him for good.

###

Though Bellamy had, of course, instructed him again very firmly to stay quiet under all circumstances, Nichols' whole manner as he spoke of Derek while questioning his first witnesses was unnerving him. As in the hearing, it was obvious that the deputy was not only completely positive about charging the right person but despised him personally and his attitude of arrogance just made Derek sick. The very fact that his own attorney didn't ask Tracy's friend, the barkeeper and the guest who recognized him or even the lab scientist anything didn't make him feel any better…

"Detective Shaw, did your team try to find any witness who may have seen the accused between the time he left the 'Box Seat' with Ms. Peterson and his arrival at his own hotel?"

"Of course. We asked everyone in the house itself and in the neighbourhood for two blocks around if anyone saw him during that space of time, and we inquired through every cab company, to no avail. So we must assume that Mr. Wills had been in the apartment at this particular time and therefore was the one who tied and gagged the victim."

"Objection, Your Honour! Assumptions are not part of the witness's duty," Bellamy cut in for the first time.

"Granted. You will stick to facts, Detective," Judge Salamon advised Shaw. Though she seemed an even-tempered and businesslike elder lady who didn't show any emotions pro or contra regarding himself, Derek was still anxious about her - and about the jury, because despite his hopes they were seven women and only five men. Given his tough luck with females, he couldn't help seeing this constellation as a bad omen.

"Sorry, Your Honour," the policeman said and continued: "As Dr. Chaketis already explained, the sperm in the found condom was clearly attributed to the accused, as were the skin particles beneath Ms. Peterson's fingernails to the scratch beneath his collarbone. In addition to that, the search for clues discovered no other usable DNA traces in the apartment, except Ms. Peterson's own. It is also clear that the apartment's door hadn't been opened by violence, so we can definitely eliminate the possibility of housebreaking after the only person who was invited in had left."

"Thank you, Detective Shaw. No further questions."

Nichols' expression showed every inch his satisfaction as he returned to his seat while Bellamy addressed Shaw:

"Did you find any other fingerprints on the door or in Ms. Peterson's apartment, Detective? Other than hers and those of my client?"

The detective nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Have they been identified?"

"Not all of them." Shaw shrugged. "As Ms. Ramirez, the victim's friend, already said - she had sporadic one night stands, received packages from her parents or delivery services... It's common to find prints of people without records in door areas."

"I see." Bellamy's small smile didn't reach his eyes. "And how do you know with certainty that every unidentified print is older than from that night? Did you put the forensic lab on that track? Is it a proved fact that they all are, without exception?"

Shaw's jaw dropped, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, but didn't respond.

"Answer the question, Detective," Judge Salamon ordered.

"Er... well... no," he finally confessed.

"So it is possible that any of those unidentified prints could have been left the very night Ms. Peterson died, even after Mr. Wills had been long gone?"

"Well, as far as my experience..."

"Yes or no, Detective," Bellamy interrupted sharply.

"Well... yes, it is possible," Shaw affirmed with a sour expression.

"Thank you. That would be all for now."

Bellamy glanced at Derek who actually felt a little less anxious after this first cross-examination of a prosecution witness. He could now be absolutely sure that his attorney would try everything to cast doubt or at least uncertainty in the jury. As he had no chance to present an alibi, a fact that the police investigation unfortunately had confirmed, it was the only weapon they had.

Tbc...

A/N: Thank you all for reading & reviewing, I hope you will follow on.

I wish Merry Christmas to everyone, may you spend the Holidays with people you love and who love you!


	13. Chapter 13

**Abyss – 13**

It was no surprise to Derek that Eileen described him as a determined perfectionist who never cared about anyone or anything but his current project; they'd known each other way too long. Therefore she had no problem confirming Nichols' knowledge about the famous hunter not only bedding 'his' leading ladies, but almost every female who crossed his path, no matter the consequences.

"Given all those years of experience with Mr. Wills' insensitive way of interacting with women, Ms. Rand, do you think him capable of the violent act he's charged with?" the deputy inquired in such a hopeful tone that Derek couldn't help but swallow hard.

"Objection! The prosecutor calls for a conclusion."

At this point, Bellamy's sharp voice betrayed for the first time that he was as angry about Nichols' openly expressed disdain as Derek.

"Your Honour, this is a very special case. How will the jury be able to decide whether or not the accused has committed this crime, if involuntarily?" The deputy defended his course. "Sure, there is evidence, and to the police, Ms. Peterson's family and me, there is proof enough that he did, but the jury has to be absolutely certain and therefore needs to learn as much about Mr. Wills' character as possible."

Judge Salamon pursed her lips for a few seconds, and then made up her mind and nodded.

"Objection overruled. Go ahead, Mr. Nichols."

"Thank you, Your Honour. So, Ms. Rand... what do you think?"

Though he desperately wished to, Derek couldn't bring himself to look away from Eileen's face. She wasn't the friend of a decade anymore, her whole cold and businesslike appearance made him feel as if he was seeing a complete stranger.

"As long as we were connected, Derek Wills was brilliant, but unpredictable," Eileen started and Derek felt himself wincing at her firm voice when she phrased '_were _connected'.

"The only thing one could definitely count on him for was guaranteed success. But it is well-known, and not only by me, that hiring him inevitably left shattered dreams and tears on the track, because he doesn't care about other people's feelings at all. This man is choleric, rude, and absolutely unable to cede control to anybody else. So the pure fact that he drank enough that night to black out made him not only even more unpredictable - he must have lost control! And I dare say that, in such condition, he is probably capable of anything."

With a deep sigh Derek closed his eyes for a moment and tried to ignore the murmur from the spectators. He felt his attorney's hand on his shoulder and gazed at him, thankful for this short gesture of consolation and support.

"Thank you, Ms. Rand. Your witness."

From the corner of his eye Derek caught the quick, smug glance Nichols threw at him on his way back to his seat and pressed his lips together. This was just the beginning of him being pulled to pieces. He was certain about that because Karen and that bloody asshole called Dev were still waiting for their turns to testify, and he was getting a very bad feeling that Nichols would call Sundaram first and nail Karen on his testimony after.

"Ms. Rand..." Bellamy had risen and slowly stepped up to the stand, viewing her with an unreadable expression. "Who hired Mr. Wills to direct and choreograph 'Bombshell'?"

She frowned, but answered without hesitation. "Me."

"So you hired someone unpredictable and capable of anything, knowing full well that on the show's way to success there would inevitably be - how did you just phrase it? - shattered dreams and tears on its track," Bellamy stated, but gestured Eileen to stay quiet when she opened her mouth.

"Well, you are the producer, therefore the one who risked the most and could have lost everything if the show flopped. Seems natural to be tough and calculating in that position."

"Of course; why do you think I fired him as soon as I learned of his arrest? It could have destroyed everything we worked for all those months!" Eileen said firmly, and slightly lifted her chin.

"Understandable. But, Ms. Rand... you called Mr. Wills a friend for... how long? Ten years? Did you ask him about his feelings before or after you fired him, Ms. Rand? Showed some interest in his fate, in the case at all? Did you ever contact my client during his confinement?"

"Why… no! He jeopardized the whole project the very moment he decided to drown himself in Scotch, without a care about what might happen. So why should _I_care anymore?"

Visible rage built up in Eileen's face; her eyes went small.

"Indeed, why?" Bellamy snorted. "For _you_are exactly the kind of character you just described my client to be! You hired him because you needed his determination and devotion to the project and didn't care about how he achieved your goal. And when he needed help, or at least someone to talk to, you not only dropped him right away, you came here today and pronounced to the world that the man you called your friend not three months ago is probably capable of a horrible act of violence! Tell me, Ms. Rand - did you ever see Mr. Wills getting violent? Did he threaten violence, or even physically harm anyone in those ten years?"

Bellamy's voice grew louder during his speech, and in the end even Derek shivered over the cantankerous sting in his attorney's tone.

"No. But he was never as drunk as that night!" Eileen hissed back.

"_At least not as far as you know_," said Bellamy. "Did you ever witness Mr. Wills freaking out? And I'm not talking about one of his legendary choleric outbursts in rehearsals, I mean _really_freaking out?" he inquired further, never letting Eileen's eyes leave his own.

"Er… No. But…"

"Then you have neither the right nor the competence to judge how my client would act or react in such heavy drunken condition, least of all to assume of what he might be capable of. Last but not least let me tell you that I am deeply disappointed that a professional like you is not able to separate business from personal matters. That will be all."

Not giving her any chance to revolt, Bellamy turned his back to Eileen and sat down without looking at her again. Though Derek didn't dare to lock eyes with his former friend he nevertheless caught a glimpse of her furious expression when she, too, returned to her place on the bench.

Of course what Bellamy just did to her had been humiliating, and Derek knew this was the only way to raise doubts in the jury's minds. But before Eileen labelled him as a kind of brute, capable of anything, part of him had still assumed she would come around eventually. Now Derek realized that he had been dreaming; that the big bad wolf had actually hoped for a happy end of the fairy tale.

Well, at least in some kind of it. But the way Eileen just expressed her frustration and anger about his misdemeanour had been clear. Not only would she never forgive him but would probably do anything to keep him as far away from her own life as possible. Maybe that was the reason she testified for the prosecution - to help get him sentenced, so she would not have to see him again.

"Prosecution calls Devan Sundaram to the stand."

A bitter smile crossed Derek's lips when he heard Nichols' next move. The deputy knew quite well how to destroy a person's reputation, he had to admit. No sense in fooling himself, for Derek was too realistic to deny the most likely reaction of anyone as soon as they learned of the private casting session. No matter what Tom and Julia would say about him, how much they would try to assure the world of their trust in his innocence - he was certain that he was going to be doomed.

Tbc …


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Happy New Year :)  
**

**Abyss – 14**

"Mr. Sundaram, you used to be Ms. Cartwright's fiancé. Tell us what happened to your relationship after she joined 'Bombshell'."

Though Nichols spoke in a quiet, civilized tone, Derek was well aware what he was up to and that every last syllable the deputy got from Sundaram would find its way to publicity. The fact that he himself had successfully avoided the views of the present reporters wouldn't change their eagerness to spread all details all over the media.

"It started even before Karen got into the cast," Dev began. "The evening after the callback audition, Wills summoned her to his apartment for a so-called _private casting session_."

His derogative snort was interrupted by Bellamy's cold voice.

"Your Honour, I would thank you to remind the witness to call my client either '_Mr_. Wills' or 'the defendant' when referring to him."

"You heard him,"Judge Salamon addressed Dev, who clenched his jaw and shot a vengeful look at Derek before he continued.

"From that day on, everything changed. He demanded more and more work from her, kept her increasingly longer after rehearsals for extra training. He practically consumed Karen, we barely saw each other. And on top of that, on the verge of going to Boston, she told me what really happened that evening in his apartment - that he sexually harassed her!" Dev spat out, visibly still furious.

"Objection! Hearsay." Bellamy's sharp voice cut in, loud enough to drown out the murmuring spectators. "Mr. Sundaram didn't attend the casting, therefore he can't know..."

"Karen told me and she never lied to me!" Dev countered in the same piercing tone. "That man is a voracious, reckless -"

"Mr. Sundaram!" The beginning of the battle of words was interrupted by the cold voice of Judge Salamon. "I strongly advise you to change your tone in my courtroom, or I'll have you penalized. And you will testify only what you have personally experienced. Objection sustained."

Though it was rather satisfying for Derek to watch Karen's ex cut down to size he didn't feel any better or less concerned in general. As he had feared, the incident of that private casting session was out and neither Nichols nor the reporters would miss the opportunity to dig the Dark Lord's grave even deeper.

After some moments, Dev managed to calm down enough to go on.

"Well, then… Only a short time after Karen told me about that private session, Wi… _the defendant_came to our apartment. I was on my way home and met him in the street when he left the house, so I took him to task. He just shrugged and shoved me away, showing not the tiniest sign of regret or even recognition that he not only overstepped every limit, but was well on his way to destroy Karen's and my relationship. He just didn't care!"

The still-seething anger was clearly audible in Dev's voice, but he now focused on Nichols instead of shooting daggers from his dark eyes at Derek who bit his lip and then bent over to his attorney, quickly whispering the details of their fight to him.

"I see." The deputy nodded and inquired:

"Did you ever talk to the accused after that argument in the street?"

"Indeed. Right here in Boston, when I tried to get Karen back. We ran into each other at the theatre's back door. He demanded that I back off, that she would be _his_now..."

"_His_? He claimed your fiancée for himself?"

"Yes. And only a few days later, he picked up that other poor girl," Dev added derisively.

"That he did. What about you and Ms. Cartwright? Did you make up?"

Some ten seconds passed, before Dev finally confessed:

"Not yet, but we're working on it.

Rolling his eyes, Derek barely managed to keep back any remark on that. God, how he hoped that Karen would get rid of that dead weight for good!

"Thank you, Mr. Sundaram. Your witness."

With a short gesture to Bellamy the deputy went back to his seat while Derek's attorney slowly approached the stand.

"Mr. Sundaram... Did Ms. Cartwright ever accuse my client of anything but asking hard work of her before she told you about the private session?"

"Of course. She said he was extremely rude in his behaviour and forced her and the others to exhaust themselves far above limit without as much as a 'thanks'."

"Aha. But she didn't complain to you about any sexual offences, now did she?"

"Er... No... But..."

"And when you met Mr. Wills in the street and took him to task, as you phrased it - what happened after he shoved you aside?"

"We... Well, we kind of struggled with each other." Dev's eyes went small and started to flicker.

"And then you punched him in the face."

The piercing gaze belied the quiet matter-of-fact tone Bellamy used and Derek's eyebrow slightly rose when he saw Sundaram speechless for some seconds.

"I..."

"Let me tell the whole story, Mr. Sundaram," Bellamy pronounced and looked at the jury. "After Mr. Wills shoved you aside, you went after him again and when he tried to free himself and leave, you lost control, landed a punch to his cheekbone and would have hit him again if Ms. Cartwright hadn't interfered and pulled you back; am I right, Mr. Sundaram?"

With that, the attorney focused on Dev again who seemed to struggle with an answer.

"We're waiting," Bellamy dug deeper, never letting his eyes off Dev who finally got out:

"Oh for Heaven's sake, yes! I did punch him. He more than deserved it!"

"Very interesting point of view, Mr. Sundaram, especially for someone working on a political career. You should call yourself very lucky that my client didn't file charges against you for assault and battery."

"He didn't dare, because he knew that he deserved it and wouldn't win," Dev claimed with a short, scornful laugh and by the look of pure hatred in his direction Derek got the impression that Sundaram desperately longed to repeat that blow here and now.

"As I doubt that you had cared to ask my client about his reasons for sparing you such public attention, I move to strike the last comment from the record for speculation. That will be all," Bellamy declared and turned away from Dev.

"Strike the witness's last remark," Judge Salamon ordered the clerk. "But add a $50 fine imposed on Mr. Sundaram for repeated contempt of court. I've warned you," she continued before Dev could say anything, and slammed her gavel on the block. "You're dismissed!"

###

Just as during the moment Derek looked at her before the trial started, Karen came across as very nervous when she took the witness stand. She still avoided gazing in the direction of the defendant's area but focused on either Nichols or her hands clutching around her bag. Though he expected her testimony to effect even more damage on his reputation, he felt sorry for the shy girl he built up to become a Broadway star. It was quite a difference to get public attention for brilliant performances or being associated with a crime, a fact Derek knew well enough, though he had not yet personally faced that attention.

"Ms. Cartwright, please tell the jury how the accused lured you into his apartment the evening after the callback."

Karen swallowed visibly before she answered. "He texted me that I had to come over for a recall."

"A recall; aha. Is it usual for audition recalls to take place in private apartments?" Nichols inquired.

"Not sure; it never happened to me before," Karen confessed. "But I guess not."

"Then why did you go?"

She bit her lip and lowered her head for some seconds and then replied in a rather desperate voice:

"Because... I... It was Derek Wills! The most famous director of Broadway asked me, the green girl from Iowa, for a recall! It was a chance to get the part and I didn't want to blow it!"

"Of course not. So you did not expect to get into a precarious situation?"

"No! I just... I didn't know what to expect, what he would probably expect from me. I just went over to prove I'm capable of performing Marilyn."

"Understandable. And what happened when you arrived?"

"He offered me a drink, and then explained that he wanted to see if I would be able to express the erotic side of Marilyn."

The audience started to murmur, but stopped almost instantly when Judge Salamon banged her gavel just once.

"Very interesting. And you did as demanded?"

"Well, at first I was anxious and even a bit angry; but then I performed 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President'. I got very close to him during the song, but left his apartment right after I finished. I felt so... so..."

"Abused?" Nichols suggested with a seductive smile which Derek would have loved to beat right off his face.

"Kind of," Karen whispered.

"Were you fully clothed during that little private show?"

Again, she hesitated and bit her lip, finally shook her head.

"I... I wore only a shirt and my... my panties..."

Of course this raised another wave of mumbling, which the Judge ended with another, sharper knock of her gavel, but still she didn't need to address the audience for silence.

Nichols' expression changed to a worried frown so easily that Derek began to wonder if the deputy might have had any acting lessons in his life. But his focus remained on Karen, because his concern for her was still growing with every minute she tried to fight her visible uncertainty about what she was doing here. At least this was exactly what Derek believed - that Dev jumped at the chance to take vengeance, reported to Nichols and the deputy seized the opportunity and summoned Karen right away to back up Sundaram's testimony, leaving her no choice. Karen's entire appearance was too unlike the preceding witnesses for prosecution, lacking the same apparent determination to present his character as bad as possible. After working with her so often, Derek knew her well enough to see the difference.

"Ms. Cartwright… I'm very sorry I have to ask," Nichols began, and Derek had to bite his lower lip to suppress the sarcastic snort he would have loved to add to the man's faked worry. "Did the accused touch you? Or..."

"No!" Karen's answer came quickly and she shook her head, eyes wide. "No, he neither touched me nor tried to do anything like that!"

"Astonishing enough, given his -"

"Objection!"

Bellamy's voice was even colder and more piercing than a few minutes ago towards Dev.

"Your Honour, I strongly object to the prosecution's behaviour towards my client! This is a twenty-first century court with rules of respect, not some medieval inquisition tribunal. The way Mr. Nichols acts, I wouldn't be surprised if he would apply for burning Mr. Wills at the stake!"

His words made people in the audience laugh, but Judge Salamon's strict "Silence in my courtroom!" ended the noise abruptly.

"Mr. Nichols, you will refrain from personal remarks against the defendant. And Mr. Bellamy - I won't tolerate any further barbaric historical analogies, understood?"

Both lawyers nodded and apologized, and then Nichols addressed Karen again.

"Did the accused touch you at all?"

"Yes, of course," Karen replied, but to Derek she seemed somewhat less uneasy with this question than before. "During rehearsals, when he showed me how to step or gesture the way he choreographed the scene."

"And above that?" the prosecutor inquired further.

Again, she flinched slightly and hesitated a moment.

"Well... Yes, but..."

"Thank you, Ms. Cartwright. I have one last question," Nichols interrupted her. "Is it correct that the accused claimed such an amount of time and energy from you that you lost the prior harmonic and loving connection with Mr. Sundaram?"

Derek saw the first tears glistening in Karen's eyes, her lips trembled and she finally just nodded, apparently unable to speak anymore.

With a short smile Nichols said "Thank you, that will be all," and returned to his seat without as much as a gesture to Bellamy.

Just before the attorney could start the cross examination, Judge Salamon glanced at her watch and pronounced: "Lunch break. Court will resume at 2:30 p.m.," slammed her gavel down and everyone hastily stood to respect her leaving.

Tbc …


	15. Chapter 15

**Abyss – 15**

As the whole procedure of full re-confinement would be too extensive for just a two-hour break, Derek was locked into another cell, not far from the courtroom. Though he hadn't eaten much breakfast because he had felt so nervous he feared to throw up right away, the served lunch went back nearly untouched as well. His stomach felt as if it was built of pure knots and therefore he didn't dare to force much food down.

With a deep sigh Derek closed his eyes and leaned the back of his head to the wall. Part of him was looking forward to watching Bellamy tear the harassment allegation to shreds, but he also felt sorry for Karen. The more he learned how difficult and exhausting those examinations really were for the witnesses, the more he started to worry not only about her, but Tom and Julia as well. This was war and Nichols was obviously not out to capture, but to kill every soul necessary to achieve a conviction. To Derek it seemed that the prosecution deputy was cut from the same cloth and for the first time he felt quite uncomfortable with that kind of character.

In addition to all those firsts he'd experienced during the last weeks it was still a strange and somewhat frightening feeling for him to discover concern for others - especially being glad about Ivy not testifying for _her_well-being instead of his own...

But he also realized that in the end it wouldn't matter how he felt, and so his rational ego slowly started submitting to the fact that the prosecution held the stronger arguments; ironically not only because of the evidence, but because of his personality as well. A bitter laugh escaped Derek. For so many years he had built up and performed what he considered the perfect man: successful in business and bed; strong, and absolutely self-reliant, allowing no weakness, neither in himself nor anyone else. And now he was on the verge of losing everything because of exactly those character features he had so intensely cultivated.

###

"Bad news, Mr. Wills." Worry was clearly readable in Bellamy's eyes. "Mr. Levitt just told me that Ms. Houston is not able to return to court today."

"What? Why? Is she okay?"

The thought of something happening to Julia seemed to twist the knots in Derek's stomach even further when his attorney came to his cell a few minutes before the trial would resume.

"She started vomiting shortly after leaving the court and now feels too sick to attend. Perhaps a kind of food poisoning..."

"No." Derek at once negated his attorney's assumption. "Probably stress. She..."

He hesitated a moment before he decided to confide Julia's secret.

"Julia is with child. But as she is getting a divorce over the affair that led to her pregnancy, I'd rather not expose her condition to anyone."

The lawyer's eyes went wide.

"Don't tell me..."

At first Derek didn't grasp Bellamy's conclusion and just stared at him; but only seconds later he raised both hands and shook his head.

"Definitely not! She... well, let's say she got re-involved with another cast member who was her lover some years ago."

"God, is there anyone in that entire show who hasn't messed up his or her life yet?" his attorney wondered aloud and sighed.

"Tom," was Derek's spontaneous answer before he bit his lip and tilted his head. "Is it possible to withdraw Julia from the witness list?"

His question caused Bellamy to frown.

"Nichols needs to agree, but I doubt he would object. On the contrary, one less witness to your defence would make him quite happy."

"I don't care if this would make him bounce," Derek stated. "Withdraw her."

"That would mean we have only Dr. Stanton, Mr. Levitt and yourself left to testify on your behalf!" Bellamy was visibly concerned. "Are you certain, Mr. Wills?"

"Absolutely."

A determined smile accompanied Derek's nod. In her current condition he would not expose Julia to Nichols' attacks and potentially risk her or the baby's health.

###

After the audience's murmur over the unexpected withdrawal of one of the defence witnesses had ceased, Bellamy approached the stand.

"Ms. Cartwright. Let's get back to the private casting session. You told us you performed 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President' in nothing but a shirt and your panties while Mr. Wills was fully clothed. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Karen replied. After the break she seemed somewhat more composed; at least Derek supposed her to be because she had stopped fumbling with her bag.

"Whose shirt was it?"

"Pardon me?" Surprise was written in her face, she blinked a few times.

"The shirt you wore; was it yours?" Bellamy inquired further.

"N… No…"

Derek quietly sighed when he watched the fumbling starting again.

"So, whose shirt did you wear, Ms. Cartwright?"

"His. I mean, Dere... Mr. Wills'."

From the corner of his eye Derek noticed that Dev was nearly jumping from his seat, but stopped dead in his tracks when Judge Salamon once again reminded the murmuring audience to stay quiet.

"Aha," said Bellamy. "And did he offer it to you?"

Swallowing visibly, Karen shook her head and slumped down a little.

"Please answer audibly for the transcriber to hear, Ms. Cartwright," Judge Salamon admonished her, causing Karen to swallow visibly before she finally obeyed.

"No. He didn't."

"So how did you get it, Ms. Cartwright? By the way, I'd appreciate if I don't have to drag every detail out of you."

"Yes. I... I went to the bathroom after Mr. Wills told me what he wanted to see," Karen now hastily explained. "I was afraid and angry, but didn't know what to do, because I didn't want to blow any hopes of getting into the show. Then I saw the shirt hanging there and... He wanted something sexy, so..."

"So it was your own decision to undress to your panties, slip into my client's shirt and therefore approached him almost naked, close enough that both your legs touched." Bellamy finished the sentence.

Karen just nodded and pressed her lips together while Derek saw Dev's jaw dropping.

"I don't like to repeat myself, Miss," the judge's now slightly impatient voice reminded Karen of the necessity of being heard.

"Yes."

"Interesting. Pray tell, Ms. Cartwright... did Mr. Wills ever offer you the main part of the show or any other advantages in exchange for physical courtesies? Did he ever touch you in other ways than usual in rehearsals or for encouragement?"

"No." Karen's voice was barely more than a whisper, her eyes started to fill with tears. "But the evening Dev met him in the street, Derek came to apologize for that private session," she cried. "If he hadn't thought of something other than casting he wouldn't have had a reason to!"

Bellamy raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Be that as it may - you can't accuse someone of sexual harassment for a _supposed_thought of getting you laid. Despite his reputation, it is definitely not my client's fault that you made assumptions and acted on them. Thank you, Ms. Cartwright; that's all."

Though Derek felt pretty disappointed in Karen and her obvious inability to asses his character at all, he had to admit that he couldn't actually blame her. Eileen and he knew each other for a decade and she not only dropped him but presented herself confident of his guilt. So why should a girl from Iowa, who was introduced to the Dark Lord just a few months before, think any differently?

Tbc …


	16. Chapter 16

**Abyss – 16**

The testimony of Dr. Stanton explaining the results of the lie detector test was a short and clinical matter, not even questioned or commented upon by Nichols, unless one would consider a snort a remark. But Derek was certain that Tom, who was called next, would have to face violent attacks on anything positive he might say about him and he hoped that his friend was braced for it.

"Mr. Levitt. You heard how your colleagues described Mr. Wills' behaviour towards other people, especially women. Do you object to any of their testimonies?"

"Certainly not." Tom answered with an honest smile. "I've know him for twelve years and that's how he acts most of the time."

"I see," said the attorney, and nodded. "But despite that fact, and contrary to the others, you reported to testify _for_him instead against. Why?"

"Because I am absolutely sure that he didn't cause Ms. Peterson's death," the composer declared in a strong, determined voice. "Of course Derek is a prowling wolf. I've never seen or heard of him treating his lady companions with respect, let alone expressing any kind of sincere feeling. Quite the contrary - just recently, during the work on the show, he used and badly hurt someone very close to my heart. But that is exactly the reason why I believe in his innocence, at least in this case. He is so arrogant, so egotistical, and so used to his whole macho act, I can't fathom that he'd be able to deviate from his course at all!"

"Not even in the drunken condition he apparently was in?" Bellamy inquired.

"No. Whatever made him drink so much he blacked out - using and dropping girls right after he got laid became second nature to him long ago, whatever the circumstances. I can't see any reason why he should have acted so contrary to habit."

"So you never witnessed or heard of any kind of physical violence towards women on the part of my client?" was the lawyer's next question.

"Never," Levitt assured.

"Thank you, Mr. Levitt. Your witness."

Though Tom's testimony was meant to exonerate him, everything he said also affirmed Derek's notorious reputation and made him feel uneasy with his previous lifestyle. The murmurs of the attendants ceased fast when the judge raised her gavel; therefore she didn't need to slam it down or demand silence this time. But the quick ceasing was also the reason Derek could hear a short, seemingly suppressed bristling sound from somewhere behind Karen's direction and he couldn't help but risk a swift glance.

He frowned when he recognized the familiar face. What the hell was Ellis doing here? After what he did to Rebecca, he should be hiding as far away from the show's cast as possible, especially from Eileen, who had told him about Boyd's role in the smoothie incident late after the preview premier.

But before Derek could think more about it, his focus was distracted when Tom was approached by Nichols who didn't bother with formalities but directly aimed for his target.

"Is it correct that the accused tried to destroy your career eleven years ago, after a joint show project of yours flopped?"

Looking slightly appalled but still calm and concentrated, Tom nodded.

"Yes. But I don't see the correlation to this poor girl."

"Well, I'm just wondering why you of all people believe him to be not guilty. I mean, despite your faith in the stability of his predator's habit you both fought practically every day during the whole project, you constantly repeated how angry you were that he had been hired to direct your show at all..."

Tom's shrug was accompanied by raised eyebrows and a small smile.

"That's true; but just because I loathed him doesn't mean I would convict him for something I don't believe he has committed."

"Did I hear 'loath_ed_', meaning past tense?" Nichols inquired with a sudden frown.

Though Derek could clearly tell by his changed expression that Tom was less than excited about being caught in front of Eileen with their renewed friendship, he neither flinched nor avoided the deputy's gaze.

"That's correct," he affirmed, even raised his chin defiantly.

"Mr. Levitt... You are not telling us that you, a gay man of all people, have started to actually like or even trust the well-known homophobic macho man who first almost destroyed your career, second, hurt a close friend, and third, jeopardized your project?"

"Objection! Neither Mr. Levitt's sexual orientation nor my client's opinion about any kind of sexual orientation is relevant!" Bellamy cut in, his suddenly very dark eyes shooting daggers at his opponent.

"Your Honour, I just want to show..."

"Stop it. I already advised you to abstain from personal remarks on the defendant; I won't do it again! Objection granted," Judge Salamon declared, visibly annoyed by Nichols' persistence.

"I beg your pardon. So, Mr. Levitt. Same question, but without the orientation parts," the deputy repeated and Derek got the impression by the sudden silence that everyone in the courtroom held their breaths.

His eyes never left Tom's and he felt an unfamiliar warmth deep inside, for he knew from the bottom of his heart that his friend wouldn't deny their rekindled relationship. Not only because he was under oath, but because through their letters they had found a mutual level they had not even reached eleven years back.

"If you must know - yes, Derek and I have renewed our former friendship." Levitt leaned back into his seat with his arms crossed. "Do you mind?"

Amidst the raising mumbling of the spectators, an aghast "How dare you!" could be heard, and Derek and Tom both had to suppress a chuckle. It had unmistakably been Eileen's voice.

"Silence! Order in the court" the judge demanded, but this time she needed to slam her gavel a few times until the noise finally ended. "Mr. Levitt, you're a witness. Your only duty is to answer questions, not ask them."

"I'm sorry, Your Honour. It was not meant as one," Tom explained and looked at her with an apologetic smile.

"As if I wouldn't know that." She rolled her eyes with a short disapproval and then gestured to the visibly angry Nichols. "Go on."

"So you 'renewed' your friendship. May I ask when and how?" Nichols inquired. "As far as I know, you visited him only once in jail; in fact, the very day the show members departed from Boston, two and a half months ago."

"Oh, there's a very old and very useful invention, permitted even during confinement. It's called 'mail'."

Seeing Tom's innocent smile partly amused Derek and partly made him worry if Levitt might get punished for contempt of court. But aside from a sharp glance from the judge, nothing happened other than some suppressed sounds of laughter from the audience which made Nichols even more furious.

"So you think it's funny to befriend a man who in all likelihood is responsible for the excruciating death of a young woman? Who badly hurt a close friend of yours? Did you forget that, because of him, she overdosed and despite ten weeks of rehab is still not capable of testifying?"

"I neither said that any of this is funny nor that I would ever forget what he did to Ivy." Tom fought back, suddenly sitting bolt upright and with a serious expression. "Quite the contrary. I'd rather not experience the least of it. Except one thing," he instantly limited his statement before Nichols got the chance to twist his words.

With a somewhat sad smile he looked at Derek, who bit his lip and swallowed given the melancholy on his friend's face.

"Derek has changed quite a lot since his arrest, and I don't want to give up our friendship ever again. Nevertheless, I honestly wish he would have been able to develop the sincere and caring character, which was sleeping beneath the wolf's fur, _before_all these terrible things happened."

Despite the judge's warning, Nichols snorted derisively when he dismissed Levitt.

"Well, perhaps he can use his so-called 'care' to better the lives of his fellow inmates while he serves out his sentence at Concord. I'm through."

Tbc …


	17. Chapter 17

**Abyss – 17**

The moment Bellamy locked eyes with Derek after Tom had returned to his place next to Sam was the moment Derek felt his legs turning to jelly. As much as he had hoped to get away, he knew quite well that he had no choice but to testify himself. But despite everything already spread about him, Derek was terrified to be forced to unfurl his intimate feelings and share the sheer endless abyss he was certain to drown in. And on top of that, he would have to face the whole audience, the reporters and - worst of all - Tracy's parents.

"I call Derek Wills to the stand."

With a deep breath Derek got up and carefully made his way to the stand, concentrating on the empty seat. When he turned, the clerk approached him with the Bible and asked him to place his left hand upon it and raise the other.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"I swear."

Not that he had ever been a religious person; nevertheless he wouldn't dare break an oath, let alone at court. Not only because it was a crime, but because he believed in the truth. At least when he knew it...

After he took his seat, he strictly focused on his attorney who stood right in front of him to support his efforts.

"Mr. Wills. We learned a lot today of your character and your habits, especially with women. Would you say those reports were immoderate?"

In an involuntary gesture, Derek bit his lower lip before he hesitantly answered.

"No, I think they were quite correct."

"Then I don't understand why you practically drowned yourself in Scotch that night at all. I mean, a man who needs to be in control, to concentrate on a difficult task like the upcoming show should not drink himself into oblivion, should he?" Bellamy inquired in a quiet but determined voice, never leaving Derek's eyes.

The sudden lump in his throat seemed to grow in mere seconds; his hands searched for something to clutch and finally clung to his chair's armrests. But despite his fear and the desperate attempt of his nerves to clench his jaw shut, after some moments he managed to bite the bullet and confess what he fought since that fateful night.

"That evening, I left the theatre right after the preview and took a cab to... to the hospital…"

Though he still tried to only look at Bellamy, who raised his brows, Derek also saw Tom's and Sam's eyes widen in astonishment before he continued.

"Ivy... she was already sleeping when I saw her, but... it was no relaxing sleep. She... she was tossing and turning, her hands were constantly moving as if searching for a hold, her lips trembled and..."

His voice nearly cracked over the memory he had tried to bury deep inside him for two and a half months now. The picture of her in that condition still haunted him, even more than his foggy memory of Tracy. He swallowed; his gaze went distant, flickered across the room and he desperately tried to concentrate on Bellamy again, but to no avail. And then he saw _her_.

Her striking blonde hair hidden beneath a dark headscarf, Ivy blended in perfectly with the audience, but now stared at him with an astounded expression and suspiciously shimmering eyes. Of course Derek was not prepared to meet her. Her being exempted from testifying meant she was not supposed to be attending at all. But as shocked as he was, part of him felt relieved that she would learn of his deep regrets first hand. So he accepted the unexpected chance - and addressed her directly, no longer able to stay impersonal.

"There were tears on your cheeks," he began, his voice still uncomfortably hoarse. "You looked so helpless, so fragile... And I knew - and still know - that I am responsible for every last bit of despair and pain you suffered. I know it, Ivy! And I couldn't stand it."

Out of his emotional turmoil and nervousness, Derek ran one hand through his hair before he hastily continued when the audience started to whisper and turn to her in surprise.

"I just couldn't stand it. I mean... when we met, I thought we were of the same kind. Sharing work and beds, having fun… But I never thought you would feel more! Or that you were not as strong as you always appeared. You see, I was certain it was the steroids when you started to change. I... I'm sorry, Ivy - it never occurred to me that you were in real need of help and support. Of course not." He snorted in disdain over his own inability to care back then.

"But when I saw you in the hospital, in that horrible condition... it was the worst moment of my life since... well, long ago. And I badly needed something to distract me from thinking about you, so I fled the hospital, wandered around for some time until I discovered a bar and grabbed the chance to drown the sight. But... it didn't work," he confessed with a desperate, hard laugh. "I still see you. I still remember everything before the black-out…"

Not until he tasted the salt on his lips did Derek realize that it was not only Ivy who was crying quietly, but he didn't care.

"I won't ask for your forgiveness, because what I did is unforgivable, but I apologize sincerely. And I hope you will recover soon and find the happiness you deserve," he added before he wiped his eyes and turned his attention back to Bellamy, trying to shield from the constantly growing mumbling in the audience.

"Now you know."

"And I thank you for that," his attorney said with a warm smile, not only ignoring the audience, but raising his voice.

To Derek it seemed that this was how his lawyer tried to cover Nichols' angry remark about unreliable persons who just pretend to be unable to testify. He felt sincerely grateful for Bellamy protecting Ivy, if also exhausted after not only pouring his intimate feelings out at all, but to her in particular.

"How about Ms. Peterson? Do you see her, too?" the attorney asked, and at once the audience went silent and their attention returned to the stand.

"What I remember of her, yes," Derek affirmed. "Her smile, when we clinked glasses in that bar, and the photo the police showed me."

"And how do you feel about her?" Bellamy inquired further.

"I am not sure…"

Derek lowered his head and pressed his lips together for a moment before he continued.

"When the officers told me about her, and how she died, I was shocked. And I tried to remember, I really did! But there was nothing more. Still is nothing more. Only... whenever I look into a mirror or explore my deepest feelings, there is no change whatsoever. I mean, yes... I have changed in some way, as Tom said; but... from the very beginning, I couldn't feel anything but sorrow about her death in general. I don't feel guilty or more uncomfortable with myself than before that night."

His lawyer nodded while Nichols made a noise similar to the snort he let out towards Tom. The audience was whispering, but not disturbing.

"So you thought a lot about Ms. Lynn and Ms. Peterson. How about Ms. Cartwright? From Mr. Sundaram's testimony I remember you claimed her to be yours?" Bellamy inquired, causing a short and bitter laugh from Derek before he explained:

"Yes, I did say 'she's mine'; but I definitely wasn't referring to any relationship other than professional. You see, I trained and built her up, formed her to a perfect Marilyn. You can compare us with, let's say, a sculptor and his piece of art. Her boyfriend's attitude turned out to be an unacceptable distraction, so I thought it necessary to keep him from her. After all, she is meant to be a Broadway star, not some adornment for an overambitious politician!"

"Objection," came promptly from Nichols. "The defendant has no right to insult Mr. Sundaram or his sincere feelings for Ms. Cartwright!"

Both Derek and his attorney rolled their eyes simultaneously, while Judge Salamon knocked once to silence the murmuring audience.

"Sustained. Disregard the defendant's last sentence," she advised the clerk and the jury, but to Nichols' and Dev's visible annoyance made no further remarks or warnings. "Go on, Mr. Bellamy."

"Thank you, Your Honour. I have one last question, Mr. Wills. Did you ever tie or gag a sex partner?"

"No."

"Not even when they asked you to?"

"No, never." Derek shook his head. "I don't like bondage or anything similar. I rather prefer my companions moving and reacting to me naturally."

"Thank you."

When Bellamy went back to the defendant's table Derek sighed quietly and exchanged a quick glance and smile with Tom who seemed to visibly approve of Derek's testimony, unlike Nichols who now approached the stand with an expression of clear disbelief.

"That was truly moving. But I suppose you had acting lessons before you concentrated on directing, hadn't you?"

"Objection!" The angry voice of Bellamy sounded like thunder.

"Sustained. Clerk, discard that but add a reprimand to protocol. Prosecution deputy Nichols will face a disciplinary hearing for constant contempt of court. One more lapse and I will suspend trial and have you replaced!" Judge Salamon pronounced in a determined, cold tone.

Though Nichols apologized through gritted teeth it was obvious that he would rather nail Derek to the next cross. But he pulled himself together and managed to stay calm.

"Well then, let's talk about the facts. You claim to _not feel guilty _about Ms. Peterson's horrible death. Did you ever see the forensic photos of the dead body?"

Just the very thought of those made Derek's stomach flip and for a few seconds he was only capable of nodding, and needed to take a deep breath before answering.

"My attorney showed me once."

"And how did you react?"

"I was shocked to the bones and felt sick. I even... well, I threw up as soon as I returned to my cell. You can ask the guards about that."

Nichols waved a hand disinterestedly and inquired:

"And why did you never address the victim's family? If you are as innocent as you claim to be, I see no reason to avoid them."

With that, he gestured to Tracy's parents whose expression of hate and disdain hadn't changed in the least. The sight made Derek swallow hard, because he still felt anxious about talking to them. But he knew quite well that he couldn't avoid them forever, especially if the jury convicted him, so he finally submitted to the inevitable.

"I wanted to. I have written at least a dozen letters to them, in which I tried to explain my feelings, my sorrow about involving Tracy in my crisis, offered my sincere condolences, but..."

Again Derek ran a hand through his hair, shook his head afterwards before he looked at the couple.

"When I read them over, the words just seemed hollow phrases, no matter how hard I fought to express the way I feel, and didn't dare to send any of them. I mean, you've lost your child! How can I ever say or write anything to make you believe me how sorry I really am?"

"You're right, we won't believe you," Mr. Peterson spoke for the first time.

"If I were you, I probably wouldn't believe me either," Derek confessed and wiped a single tear from his eye. "But... if I am found guilty and sentenced, you will at least have some kind of comfort, if only by the satisfaction of my punishment. I, on the other hand will never rest until I die. Because whether I go free or go to prison, I will probably never know if I am responsible for her death!"

"You are not!"

Tbc …


	18. Chapter 18

**Abyss – 18**

Everyone turned to the courtroom's entrance, where a man who had obviously just arrived now slowly approached the marked off area. His eyes were locked with Derek's who stared at a man he'd never met. But despite the fact his mind was absolutely certain of _that_, his body reacted completely opposite to the smooth voice, the caring gaze and the apologetic smile. A slight shiver ran down his spine, he even felt a tiny twitch in his groin.

"Who are you?" Judge Salamon inquired when the man stopped between defence and prosecution. "And why do you contend that the accused is not responsible for the victim's death?"

"Because during the essential time, Mr. Wills was with me. Therefore, I am his alibi," the stranger declared. "My name is Alexander Flynn."

Of course this statement raised a sudden wave of surprised sounds and even shouts until the judge slammed her gavel and demanded silence. "And why didn't you say so at the time of Mr. Wills' arrest? It has not exactly gone unnoticed by the media."

Flynn presented some kind of logbook.

"I have been on my annual long sailing trip and just came back today. You can check my log and the port authority's registries of departure and arrival."

Salamon gestured to the clerk who fetched the log from Flynn and handed it over to her. After she had studied the entries, she gave it back and pronounced: "Mr. Wills, return to your place; Mr. Flynn, you will take the stand."

Derek couldn't take his eyes from his rescuer. Though he was still confused about his physical reactions towards Flynn, he could not deny that the man was attractive, especially now with his sea-tanned face and sun-bleached hair. They exchanged a short smile when Derek passed him on his way to the defendant's seat, and again he felt that unusual and distracting sensation in his nether region which was even more confusing.

After Flynn was sworn in, he started to explain: "Well, as I said - I returned today and instantly drove over to my bar, to check on everything, and my employee told me about the crime in our neighbourhood."

"You own a bar near the crime scene? But not the 'Box Seat'," Nichols interrupted with knitted brows.

"No, the 'Raven'," Flynn corrected. "As I learned from my employee, it's almost across the street from that poor girl's apartment house."

"What?" Now it was Bellamy who interjected and turned to the detectives. "Didn't you say you checked the whole neighbourhood?"

"Of course," Shaw stated, visibly insulted. "My men went into every house, asked..."

"Er..."

He stopped when his partner Connelly cleared his throat. "What?"

"The 'Raven' is a well-known _gay_ bar. Why should we have bothered to ask there for _him _of all people?" Connelly said with a shrug, causing Nichols to roll his eyes and break his pen in obvious frustration.

"I see," Bellamy remarked and shook his head. "So you seriously thought that my client, who is a stranger to Boston except for some theatres, hotels and restaurants, is supposed to know which bar is appropriate for him and which is not. Very professional investigation methods, gentlemen!"

Again the audience became louder until the gavel slammed down while Derek buried his face in his hands, for he could not believe what he just had heard. Was it even possible that he had spent two and a half months in jail because a detective had felt free to judge whether or not he cared where to get a drink?

"Silence! Please continue, Mr. Flynn."

"Of course. It was around twenty-five minutes to two and I was cleaning up for closing when Mr. Wills entered the 'Raven'. He was not in very good condition, already drunk and obviously upset. At first I considered sending him away, but the expression in his eyes... He looked haunted, confused," said Flynn, and Derek finally looked up to lock eyes with him again.

"I made clear that he would get only one drink and he agreed, so I served him a Scotch. After a healthy sip and some encouragement he told me that he had just left a very frustrated and angry girl behind. She seemed to have expected at least a few hours company when they agreed on a one night stand, but when they... well, started to exchange courtesies, he felt uncomfortable with the whole situation, quickened the pace and dressed right after he was finished. Of course she became angry, even tried to stop him but her attempt only led to a deep scratch. He also mentioned that she slammed her door after he'd slipped out."

The murmuring rose again and for the first time since Flynn's appearance, Derek dared to look at Tracy's parents. Though they still seemed hesitant to trust the unexpected witness, he felt less anxious with their emotions now and breathed deeply before he focused back on Flynn.

"I had planned to sleep on my yacht that last night before departure anyway, so I offered Derek... I mean Mr. Wills... a ride to his hotel. After some last cleaning issues we left the 'Raven' around a quarter past two. I had to fetch my packed things yet, so we first drove to my apartment, and then I dropped him at his hotel and finally went to the yacht port."

"Wait a moment," Nichols cut into the whispers of the audience. "How far is your apartment from the bar?"

"Barely ten minutes at that time of night."

"And from there to the hotel?"

"Maybe fifteen..."

For the first time, Derek noticed a kind of nervousness, a slight uncertainty in Flynn's testimony and he started to wonder what he might be hiding, because to him everything seemed logical. Except...

"Interesting; then why did you need more than one and a half hours to get there? It's been established that the defendant arrived at his hotel a few minutes past four!"

Silence fell over the whole courtroom and though he stared at Flynn himself, Derek was well aware of the fact that everyone else was doing the same. Again, they looked at each other; a strange feeling of familiarity rushed through every fibre of Derek's body and before Flynn confessed the reason for the delay he _knew_.

"Sorry, Derek. I had hoped to avoid it, but..." Flynn hesitated only seconds and then continued: "He accompanied me to my apartment, we talked... and..."

He inhaled deeply, as did Derek.

"I felt attracted to him the moment he entered the bar, and when he started to relax he reacted to me, too. Physically, I mean. So..."

Again, Flynn paused and pressed his lips, shifting slightly around on his seat while he tried to avoid Derek's view.

"We're anxious for the rest of your story, Mr. Flynn," Nichols prompted and given the malicious tone in the prosecutor's voice, Derek could swear he was still eager to cause as much damage to him as possible, contrary to Alex, who obviously felt quite uncomfortable with sharing any details of what had happened between them. But when Judge Salamon firmly added "Go on, Mr. Flynn", it was absolutely clear that he had no choice.

"We..." Flynn swallowed visibly and cleared his throat before he finally confessed: "We touched, and we kissed... and... we were... intimate."

The sharp breath from behind him must have been Tom's, Derek was certain of that. But he didn't turn to his friend, he still held eye contact with the man who just had saved him - and in the process shattered whatever had been left of his reputation. But to his utter astonishment, Derek didn't care. The pure thought of what they had obviously shared made him shiver in a way he was not used to, but remembered far too well to deny. Even if it was an eternity since he had tried to destroy it with every weapon he could get...

It was Bellamy who finally broke the silence.

"Mr. Flynn. Did you see anyone when you left the 'Raven' with my client?"

"Oh, er... I..." Flynn shook his head after he pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly trying to concentrate while his gaze started to wander across the room. "No, I... Wait, yes! Derek was already in the car, I locked the bar entrance, and then... there was a man, vomiting into a storm drain! And... it was _him_!"

With a clearly surprised expression Flynn pointed to someone in the audience. Derek's and everyone else's view followed - and the very next moment, when Derek recognized him, dumbfounded, the man jumped from his seat and ran for the door.

Tbc …

A/N: Thanks for your review, shanshii; I'm glad you like my plot :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Abyss – 19**

The next seconds were a blur of chaos and turmoil. Some spectators tried to stop the man, but he somehow managed to get out of the bench row. Nevertheless, one of the reporters and the officer at the door got hold of his arms eventually and after some fruitless struggling, he gave in and let himself be marched to the marked-off area, where the second guard took over and the reporter returned to his place.

Derek could only stare at Ellis Boyd, then at Tom and Sam, who looked likewise stunned, and finally at Ivy. She stood, both hands on her mouth and gaped with eyes as big as saucers while Eileen railed at her former assistant, drowning out the noise of the audience:

"_You!_ I don't believe it! Didn't you cause enough trouble _before_ I fired you?"

"Silence! Or I'll have the courtroom cleared!" Judge Salamon shouted and slammed down the gavel several times until everyone, except Boyd and the officers holding him, was seated and relatively quiet again.

"Mr. Flynn, are you sure this is the man you saw that night?" the judge inquired and Alex nodded.

"He is. No doubt."

At once the audience started to murmur again, but even before the judge could demand silence again, Bellamy addressed Boyd:

"Why were you vomiting in front of Ms. Peterson's building? Had you been inside? Maybe even in her apartment? Otherwise I see no reason for your attempt to escape the courtroom."

"I didn't mean to harm her!" Ellis exclaimed in a desperate voice. "I just wanted her to listen, to persuade her to sue Wills for sexual harassment or even rape! Everything, anything, whatever it took to destroy him - and the show! But she started to scream, she fought me and tried to call the police!"

This was too much now for Derek. After all the time he had been condemned to struggle with the possibility of being some kind of murderer, the weeks of incarceration, losing practically his whole existence and suffering other people's disdain and spite, his enforced patience finally broke into fury.

"You bloody son of a bitch!" he yelled at Ellis and would have jumped at him, if not for two pairs of arms instantly restraining him from behind. Though he was struggling, he continued to rage.

"All this time you knew she was alive when I left! Why didn't you tell the police?"

"Because you deserve to rot in jail!" Ellis spat back, his suddenly burning eyes shot daggers at Derek. "Ivy almost died because of you, you bastard, and right after you finally stooped to gloat at the damage you caused, you had nothing better to do than pick up the next best blonde for a fuck! You're nothing but shit!"

Ignoring the judge's rigorous demands to stop at once, Derek couldn't help but yell even louder.

"You're damn right, I am! But Tracy _wasn't!_ She had absolutely nothing to do with anything, not with Ivy, not with the show - and definitely not with _you!_ So why her, Ellis? Why _her_ of all people?"

"Mr. Bellamy, bring your client to heel or he will be arrested for contempt... " Salamon shouted, but was interrupted by Boyd's desperate answer.

"When I tied and gagged her, it was only because I wanted her to calm down and listen to me!" Tears were running down his face now and his voice started to crack. "I... I went to the kitchen, to give her some space to think. When I came back to talk with her, she... she was... already... Oh God, I didn't want that!" he cried.

After his confession, the entire audience was silent, except sounds of sobbing from Ellis and Ivy. Even Derek felt unable to yell or even speak. To the contrary, he suddenly felt tired and weak, his legs started to tremble and he was thankful for the supporting hands that helped him sit down. He wasn't surprised to recognize a black and a white hand, each squeezing one of his shoulders for comfort.

"Officers, take him into custody," Judge Salamon ordered and after Ellis had been hauled off she looked at Derek. "All charges dropped, jury is dismissed. Mr. Wills, you are at liberty to go. Court is closed." She slammed her gavel down for the last time and left.

###

After a few moments which he needed badly to adjust not only to what he had just learned, but to comprehend the pure reality of being free at last, Derek slowly turned to his lawyer.

"Mr. Bellamy... I..."

From the corner of his eyes he observed most of the audience leaving, including a stone-faced Eileen who was almost dragging Karen and Sundaram with her, and Kevin and his wife, who beamed with visible joy and waved him good-bye. But Derek also heard the rising noise from the reporters already waiting outside the courtroom and sighed. Though he knew that he had no chance whatsoever to avoid them, he did not feel ready for interviews yet.

"Don't worry, I will ask them for some patience," his attorney said with an understanding smile and went to the entrance to talk with the media representatives in advance. He had just closed the door behind him when Derek saw Alexander Flynn rising and slowly heading towards the exit. Nearly jumping from his chair, Derek intercepted him, but didn't know what to say when they looked at each other, except the quiet "Thank you" he somehow managed to get out.

"You're welcome," Flynn replied and smiled, though Derek couldn't help but sense a kind of wistfulness from his rescuer. "I'm only sorry for not being here when it all started."

"That's definitely not your fault."

One hand running through his hair, Derek bit his lower lip and looked down for a moment before he locked eyes with Flynn again. The confusing reactions of his body to the other man's proximity felt simultaneously strange and familiar and the amused sparkles in those ocean blue eyes intensified the sensation, causing him to swallow hard before he finally was capable of talking.

"Alex... I... What happened that night... I don't remember any of it, but..."

"No need for explanations, Derek," Flynn interrupted him with the same soft tone in which he had testified, causing Derek to pleasantly shiver. "But the way I see it - and your obvious response to me, even now when you're sober, affirms it quite well - you should come to terms with the inevitable fact that you're _at least_ bisexual. Though I honestly doubt that's all you are."

Before the pure thought of this hint could scare him away, Derek felt one finger stroking his hand for just a glimpse of time and inhaled sharply when something hot rushed from the touched area right to his spine, prompting his member to twitch. His eyes widened, but instead of the horror the very idea would have had inflicted in the past, he just felt - expectant.

"As I thought," Alex stated, fetched a card from his pocket and put it into one of Derek's jacket pockets. "Call on me when you're ready. I'd be happy to meet you again."

Not offering Derek the slightest chance to answer or react at all, Flynn took his leave to meet the waiting reporters who certainly would descend on him like vultures. Though he desperately wished to talk with him, to try to understand what was happening inside him, Derek neither called nor followed Alex, but instead was distracted at once when his eyes met Ivy's.

Unlike the majority of the audience, she was still here, but despite her tear-stained face her expression seemed somewhat less pained than before Derek's testimony and Ellis' confession. Nevertheless, Derek didn't dare to approach or address her, just held her gaze, bearing the fierce feeling of guilt and remorse without turning away.

God, how he wished he hadn't treated her so badly! No matter how many women he had used, hurt or left heartbroken in the past, he had never felt responsible for their feelings, let alone their behaviour as result of those. But with Ivy, everything had changed. And for the first time, he felt capable of reading her emotions correctly, recognizing something in her eyes, her whole expression, that made him feel worse and truly moved at the same time.

An uncertain but sincere smile grew on his face and his heart leapt when Ivy eventually returned the smile, if obviously reluctantly, before she left the courtroom, shown through the side door by an elderly woman he supposed to be her therapist. To meet the press would be too much for her; Derek was well aware of that. As he was of something which would have never occurred to him before she overdosed and therefore started the wheel of destiny.

Now, after her very own experience of not being loved and compensating for the pain with drugs, she would express those emotions perfectly in every tune. It really was a shame that he would probably never get back to 'Bombshell'; otherwise he wouldn't hesitate to build Ivy back up as Marilyn as soon as she was fit and ready.

That was, if she would want it. If there was one essential thing Derek had learned in these past weeks, it was respecting the feelings of other people. And exactly that was the reason he took a deep breath and turned to face Tom.

Tbc …

A/N: Thanks for reviewing, dear guest :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Abyss – 20**

For the first time since the beginning of the trial, Derek got the opportunity to look at his friend directly. Tom smiled, visibly relieved, but nevertheless seemed to be quite a bit uneasy, as was Sam. Probably both were unsure what to think of what just happened between Derek and Ivy. But perhaps they were just as shocked as everyone to learn of Ellis' horrible secret.

"Sam, Tom... I want to thank you both, for holding me back when I flipped," he began hesitantly. "I'm afraid I would have killed him if I had gotten the chance."

"Na, you wouldn't." Sam shook his head and offered his hand which Derek was only too pleased to accept. Both smiled for a short moment and then Derek faced Tom again, looking him in the eyes, swallowing a last time before he said:

"Tom... I wish to apologize."

Apparently surprised, Levitt raised his eyebrows. "Not that there aren't enough incidents you should apologize for; but for what exactly is this meant?"

Inhaling deeply to work up the courage Derek finally put his cards on the table.

"For trying to destroy your career and drive you as far away as possible in the process eleven years ago," he confessed, struggling with his instincts to run and hide rather than continue looking into Tom's now wide-open eyes.

"You... you actually _admit_ that I've been right? That you really tried to smash my artistic existence?"

Though Levitt's expression showed clear disbelief, Derek knew it wasn't his despicable demeanour in doubt, but his readiness to acknowledge it and therefore risk their refreshed relationship. But despite the prospect of losing him again, Derek felt as sick now about his past horrible attitude towards Tom as about his behaviour towards Ivy, and honestly wanted to eliminate everything evil between them.

"Yes, I admit it," he confirmed without flinching, but with a sigh. "And though I don't expect you to accept my apologies, I nevertheless hope that we at least can work out a kind of positive relationship. I'd rather not go back to our former status of ignoring and loathing."

"Me neither," Tom replied, tilted his head and put one finger to his lips before he inquired:

"Why? Why did you do it? Flop or not, I hadn't done anything..."

"You're right, you didn't," Derek cut in at once, swallowing hard. "But..."

Inside him, his rational mind and his still-vibrating gut were fighting each other. His head was telling him to wait, because he was confused and emotionally over-stressed now and probably would later regret interpreting the chaos this way. But his heart, the one organ he had strictly ignored for more than a decade, had shown him exactly _that _truth he had tried to bury deep down for an eternity - and he slowly submitted to the realization that he didn't want to fight it anymore.

Nevertheless, despite his honest wish to sort things out with Tom once and for all, Derek knew that he still was not able to share his intimate feelings. Too many years he had built up who he was known for, and on top of that, never shared emotions with another person. No matter how many firsts he had experienced during these past ten weeks, he knew that this special gap was too wide to bridge yet. Therefore, he lowered his head for a short moment and sighed before he looked at Levitt again.

"The truth is, I... I'm sorry, Tom. I really want you to know why, but I can't tell you! Not yet, I mean. I... I don't feel ready," he tried to explain and cursed himself inwardly for this insecure stuttering - and for the anxiety he felt about his friend's reaction.

Tom's eyes went a bit narrow, then after a while he slowly started to nod. But though he seemed to relax a little, his expression remained serious, causing Derek to swallow and bite his lower lip again before he dared to go on.

"As I said - I don't expect you to accept my apologies; but -"

"But I do accept," Levitt interrupted. "As surprised as I am - I'm truly glad you finally had the balls to apologize and confess at all. Of course I expect you to explain your reasons some day. No backing out; no excuses! I want us to have a faithful friendship and it won't be possible in the long run if you keep hiding the truth."

"You're right," Derek nodded. "And you have my word that I will tell you, as soon as I can."

"Fine; then it's settled." Sam cut in and gestured to the entrance where Bellamy beckoned them to meet the media. "Seems we can't avoid them any longer."

Derek sighed and felt his stomach tying itself into knots again. He would rather prefer not talking with the press at all - especially not about what happened between him and Alexander Flynn. After some quick thinking how to avoid that dangerous path, he decided to blame his sexual 'lapse' on his drunken state and decline any further comments. It would be hard enough to get back on his feet and find someone to hire and trust him with a project; he couldn't waste energy on exploring his sexuality right now. Nevertheless, he felt uneasy for his friends, too, and quickly suggested:

"You wait until they are busy shredding me, and take the opportunity to sneak through."

"Forget it!"

Tom shook his head and his expression betrayed determination which was mirrored by Sam at once when he declared:

"We're friends; we won't let you down. Let's face them together."

Despite the number of letters he had exchanged with Tom and the friendly relationships he had built with his former inmate Kevin and Miles O'Shaugn, Derek was still not used to receiving this kind of personal support. But at least he had learned to accept help at all and so he smiled gratefully.

"Agreed. Thank you."

Without a word of consultation, just looking at each other, Tom and Sam took Derek between them, he put his arms on their shoulders while theirs wrapped around his waist and this way, presenting a united front, the three made their way out of the courtroom and into the media vulture's greedy beaks.

The end…

A/N: Thank you all for reading, favorising, following and reviewing. I enjoyed your comments as much as I hope you enjoyed my story :)


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